The Autumn Moon
by desertwolf4
Summary: It was for his own protection, that was what Peter had to tell himself whenever his thoughts would drift back to Chris. He could not spare a thought on him, not with the rogue werewolf in town. It was too dangerous, for his pack and for the man that he is still in love with.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** So long story short, I'm obsessed with Teen Wolf. I've been thinking about it, reading fanfics, and finally I write the idea that popped into my head for my OTP: Peter Hale/Chris Argent. This is the result. I'm actually quite pleased with it.

Please note it is AU, it does not follow canon, and there will probably be blood and some gore in this fic.

Hope you like!

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"You can't keep doing this Peter."

The sounds of someone upstairs scrambling reached his ears to the point where Peter Hale could barely focus on the man sitting across from him. It was not like he actually wanted to be there, well no that's not entirely true he did enjoy the man's company but he did not want to listen to yet another lecture on why he should not go after the rogue. It wasn't like he couldn't handle himself.

"I think you're missing the point here Stilinski," he brought the mug of coffee to his lips pretending to sip it. "It made itself my enemy the moment it attacked my family."

His eyes flicked to the Sheriff, catching the glimpse of frustration on his face. "This isn't healthy…"

"Neither is the amount of energy your son has but you don't see me complaining do you?" The comment couldn't have come at a more appropriate time as said child dashed into the kitchen.

"Hi dad," he said, clad in a red sweatshirt snagging a piece of toast. "Bye dad!" Stiles Stilinski gave his dad a hug right before he left the house in a flurry. The sound of his screaming metal death trap that he insisted on driving roared outside and faded into the sunlight of another promising day.

"Stiles is an active boy…"

"Who I have seen on several occasion wandering the woods." Last night in particular there had been a nasty run in between the rogue, his pack, and two foolish boys who should not have been outside so late. "One of them was bitten John. Melissa's boy, Scott."

Sheriff Stilinski's brow furrowed, a frown forming on his lips. "You should have told me about this rogue wolf sooner Peter. I could have been-"

"It would have ripped you to shreds and there would have been nothing I could do about it." The alpha flicked his gaze back to his long time friend, a frown, a look of concern on his face. "It went after my family John…" The pure rage that had boiled up inside him when Derek had returned home that night with Laura bloody and broken in his arms nearly sent him back to the pure animalistic state he had been in the night of the fire. Nearly. Nothing could rival what he felt that night.

"How is she doing?"

"Deaton took care of her, Derek's standing watch." Peter brought the mug to his lips then set it back down again, his stomach churning. He did not like talking about things regarding his family, especially his past. It made his wolf very angry. "Why did you want to talk to me John? It's not like you to call me here this early without a very good reason, which I assume you have?"

"There are hunters in town."

A cold child went down Peter's spine. He did not have the time to deal with a rogue and with hunters, what the hell had he done wrong this time to gain the attention of the hunters? "We have done nothing, we haven't attacked any humans they have no-"

"Peter listen to me, it's the Argents. They're the ones back in town."

"And? It's a large family I still don't see the-"

"Chris is back. He moved in the other day with his wife and daughter."

The mug in Peter's hand shattered. The wolf struggled to rear its head and bare its teeth as a low snarl fell off of Peter's lips; he had nearly reached his breaking point. The fact that Chris fucking Argent had a family and that he was happy, made his growl deepen.

"Take it easy Peter…It wasn't his fault you ended it with him."

"Yes it was."

John gave him a look that only a father could give someone, and Peter looked away from him. He busied himself, picking up a paper towel to wipe up the mess he had made. "Be realistic Peter…"

"I am being realistic."

"No you're acting like you are five years old."

With a huff, Peter sank back down into the chair across from the town's sheriff. "If you were not one of my few friends in this town I'd smack you for that comment…"

"And yet you won't because you have never once followed through on any of your threats," John said with a grin, looking over the rim of his coffee mug towards him. "You didn't in high school and I doubt that you have changed that much since then."

Peter wrinkled his nose in a very un-adult sort of way, a habit he had gotten into in high school when he disagreed with something that had been suggested. "Everyone else believed me why not you?"

"You have a tell." John got to his feet going to put his plate and mug in the sink. "Now back on the subject at hand. You know you cannot go near the Argents right Peter?"

He waved his hand, dismissing the idea. "Just because they are hunters does not mean they'd kill me on sight. I've done nothing wrong and I haven't broken their code."

"You're kidding me right? The night of the fire? You nearly ripped-" Peter shot John a look that stopped him mid sentence. "Just be careful. Don't do anything stupid."

"Fine, fine I'll be careful." Peter pulled his jacket back on. "Do you still want me to keep an eye on the school?"

"And keep an eye on the new wolf? Oh of course I do." Sheriff Stilinski said, pulling on his uniform's jacket. "Scott's a great kid and all but—"

"If the rogue gets to him before I do."

"Exactly."

Peter nodded. "I got time before then. But don't worry I'll be there." He picked up the helmet that sat beside the table. "See you around John."

"See you Peter."

With one last look back over his shoulder at his friend, Peter walked outside pulling the helmet onto his head and mounting his motorcycle. He sped out of the driveway riding back to the Hale house. It was a mere shadow of its former glory, but Peter had wanted to rebuild it. It was a symbol of his pack, his den. It was where he was raised with his older brother, Daniel, and he refused to let the city destroy it.

Granted rebuilding it and fixing it up had taken more time and effort than he had expected, especially coming off of a two week stay in the burn unit after the fire. But his friends, his old high school buddies, minus a certain hunter, had helped. When it was done the house looked almost exactly like how Peter remembered it. It would never be the same, it would always just be a shadow of what it had once been. The family was all but destroyed, and ghosts of the past haunted the very ground. Not that Peter believed in them.

It was the only reason Laura and Derek had returned to Beacon Hill. Neither of them wanted to stay, hell they had left. But when Peter had called them, and, he's not ashamed to admit, he had begged them to return home. It was instinct, an animalistic need to be around his family, his pack. His begging must have worked they had come home.

Peter parked his bike in the driveway and looked up at the house, a small smile on his face. Even if the place was haunted, not that ghosts were real, that did not matter to him. This was his home.

His den.

From inside he could hear the sounds of Laura and Derek talking. The two were old enough to be out of school, and while they did both have jobs; Derek had taken time off to stay with Laura while she recovered. The rogue had done damage and the wounds were taking forever to heal.

He closed his eyes listening to the sounds o the woods surrounding him. The wind caressed his cheek, messing his hair and brought with it the smells of autumn.

"_Peter!"_

His eyes snapped open, a shiver going down his spine. Just because he loved the place didn't mean that every so often the events of the fire replayed in his mind. The look on his brother's face, the cries and screams. His brother, god he missed him.

Again, he closed his eyes, focusing his attention on his senses, the smells of the woods, the sounds, just to be sure that there was nothing unfriendly or unwanted near him. He hoped he would be so lucky.

Of course he wasn't that lucky, when was the last time he had been that lucky?

The alpha turned to look towards the end of the drive. There was a figure standing there. There was only one person, one particular kind of human, who could sneak up on an alpha. A hunter, and a skilled one at that.

A growl fell off his lips. Oh he knew who it was. There was no one else stupid enough to go that close to his territory so brazenly. He did not want anything to do with him. Peter could not deal with seeing him right then.

Chris Argent started walking towards him and Peter had half a mind to walk inside the house and slam the door in his face. Maybe John had been right by saying he was acting like a five year old.

Chris would deserve it. Even if everything that had happened had not really been Chris's fault…

But it would certainly make Peter feel better.

The talking inside the house went quiet, the two betas has figured out there was a stranger in their territory. Not that Peter had any doubt that they wouldn't notice, but he had hoped they wouldn't. He did not need them getting involved what would certainly turn into a fight.

Chris was walking closer. Each step shortened the distance between. The man's scent grew stronger sending Peter's senses on a spiraling rocket ship heading towards critical.

And god Chris looked exactly like how he had remembered, bit older, bit grayer even (probably a side effect from hunting), but still the same tall, strong man he had known. With that same damn smirk plastered on his damn lips that Peter so desperately wanted to kiss.

No.

No he did not want to kiss Chris Argent.

Who was he kidding? He did want to. Not that he would let himself. He had more self control than that.

"Come to make sure I haven't gone psychotic? Checking to make sure I haven't gone on a murderous rampage?" Peter asked shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Cause I haven't, to answer your question. You're not welcome here and I'd prefer it actually if you'd leave."

Chris looked at him, his gaze moving from his posture, back to his face, and he smirked again. Peter knew that look, knew it and hated it. The intelligent, studying look that Chris had had in high school when he was actually interested in something that was going on. Normally it appeared right before he corrected someone in class. "You're a terrible liar Hale."

Damn it all to hell. He did not like the fact that Chris could still read him like a book. "Didn't lie about a thing. Now back to my question. What are you doing here?"

"There's a rogue-"

"No one in my pack is the rogue," Peter snapped a growl forming in his voice. "We're doing what your kind is. Hunting it."

"My kind? You must mean humans."

"No I mean hunters." Peter was starting to get uneasy, fidgeting, pulling his hands out of his pockets and clasping them behind his back. "After all, killing is what your family does best."

The hunter's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. Clearly Peter had hit some sort of nerve and made the man angry. "Would you get over yourself and just listen to me for a moment?"

Peter eyed him suspiciously, then shrugged. What could it hurt to hear him out? "Fine. Speak."

"We know it bit someone-"

"Yes I know this as well I'm already working on-" Chris gave him an annoyed look. "Go on."

"Good to know you at least care if this rogue gets a pack…" Chris muttered. "This was a bad idea I shouldn't have come here."

"No you shouldn't have. You made your choice long ago. You picked some bitch over me." Peter folded his arms over his chest, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Too much excess energy, nervous energy.

And a second later Peter knew he had said the wrong thing. His skin burned as Chris pressed the edge of the silver blade he had been concealing somewhere on him against his bare neck, his grip on his shoulder strong enough to bruise a normal human. Anger, frustration flooded his gaze. But Peter didn't flinch; if Chris really wanted to kill him he'd be dead by now. "Get this through your head, you're the one who left me."

Sounds from inside the house, Derek and Laura were coming to help. "Don't come out here," he barked over his shoulder, and the sounds of movement stopped. Like good pack members, they were waiting for a cue from their alpha. "And for your information Chris. You picked Victoria over me. I was second best; something on the side but oh no can't take me home to the family what would they say their son dating a werewolf? The scandal!" Peter narrowed his eyes, pushing Chris back away from him. "Honestly Chris what did you expect to happen? Did you really think I'd stay?"

"I had no choice."

"Oh yes you did." Peter circled the hunter, a predator stalking his prey. "You could have picked me. My family wouldn't have cared. We're not controlling like your family." So he might have been losing control just a tiny bit. Peter stepped up behind him a clawed hand wrapping around Chris's neck. "You used me. Toyed with me. And gave me no choice but to leave you," he growled into his ear, pressing his claws against his skin. He could feel Chris go tense, heard him hiss as his claws scratched that pretty pale skin, and it only made him grin. "You had your chance, you could have picked me. You picked them. You picked them even after the fire." Or perhaps he had lost it a lot. If this went on any longer…

He pushed Chris away from him, bringing a hand to his face forcing back any and all primal urges to either kill him or claim him down to the deepest darkest corner of his mind. "Leave Chris. I don't want you around…I can't have you around. I won't risk having an Argent near my pack."

The hunter stared at him wide eyed, and didn't move.

"Please Chris…" Peter looked at him. Yes he was resorting to begging. "Just leave…"

What the man did next nearly sent Peter into a spiral of just plain giving into the wolf. Chris approached him shaking his head. "I lost you once. I let you leave…" Chris sank down to his knees in front of the alpha, tilting his head just enough to expose his neck. Bloody hell the man was submitting. "You did the same to me. But damn it Peter I still…"

_Love you._

It was so simple, all he had to do was answer him back, accept the gesture and answer him and Chris would be with him again but...

"_If you come near him again, I will kill him…"_

Peter shook his head and moved to go back inside. "But I don't…now please leave me be." Oh it was a blatant lie, Derek and Laura would certainly know if only because of how fast his heart was beating.

"_And you'll watch as he dies, you'll watch the life drain from his eyes."_

The alpha turned and walked back into the house, closing the door behind him. His eyes were shut as he leaned against the door, listening to the sounds of hunter walking away, getting into his car, and finally driving off. Every fiber of his being wanted to chase after him, tell him he lied, tell him the truth about everything. But he couldn't do it.

When he finally opened his eyes, Derek and Laura stared at him, confusion in both of their eyes. They certainly did look like their parents. "I'm fine you two." It was a lie, they all knew it. Peter was not okay, but he had a job to do. He had promised John to make sure the rogue did not get to Scott, and from the sounds of it he was going to need help.

Help in the form of a high school student with ADHD and a rather bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

* * *

Peter figured he was lucky that he and his nephew were a common sight around the school, enough so that no one called the cops on them for sitting and watching the lacrosse practice. His eyes were fixed on the new wolf, number 11. The signs were so obvious to him, the way the kid moved, how he was suddenly able to actually play lacrosse, which judging from how Stiles was reacting Scott must have been terrible.

And damn it he looked like his mother.

"Is that the McCall kid?" Derek asked, and Peter glanced sideways at his nephew. Derek was leaning against the bleachers, his eyes scanning the surrounding area, keeping watch just in case.

"That's him." Peter stood up as the coach blew the whistle signaling the end of practice. The boys filled back into the locker room. "Come on we'll wait outside for them." He jumped off the bleachers landing on the ground with a soft thud.

The pair walked towards the front of the school waiting, watching, keeping guard. There was no way that he was going to let the rogue get to this new wolf. Not when the new wolf was Melissa's kid.

It did not take long before the team started to file out of the school. Stiles bounded up to them like, dare he compare the two, a puppy eager to see his owner. As for Scott. It took Peter a few moments before he managed to spot the pup. Who was talking to a girl.

"Hey Stiles who's that?" Peter asked turning to see Stiles rambling on about something to Derek, who had a rather amused look on his face and was that. Was that a smile? Interesting… "Stiles."

"Huh? Oh sorry what'd you say?" He got an almost sheepish look about him for not paying attention, shuffling his feet.

"Who's the girl with McCall?"

"Oh she's new. That's Allison. Not as amazing as Lydia of course."

"Of course not," Peter teased him with a grin. "Do you know her last name?"

"Argent."

Peter felt like the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. Argent? Allison Argent? His fucking daughter? Oh there was no way in hell. "Scott!" Peter snapped, anger boiling in his veins. "Here. Now."

Scott looked from Peter to Allison and back again before finally walking to the alpha looking like a dog that had just got caught stealing his master's steak. "I don't see why you had to go and get all mean about it…" he mumbled. "I was just talking to her."

"You should be at home," Peter responded, feeling a rather large headache approaching. Suddenly he understood exactly why his brother so often complained of headaches, being an alpha and a parent was not something that had to be an easy task.

"But…"

"No buts Scott. Go home. Stiles you go with him and stay with him till your father comes to pick you up."

Stiles did not appear to like the idea of that, but let out an over exaggerated sigh. "Well fine mister grumpy wolf. Come on Scott we can go make brownies and eat the batter."

Peter could only watch and shake his head as they left, chattering on and on. Or more like Scott talking about Allison Argent.

What the hell was it with wolves and being attracted to that damn family of hunters?

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**Reviews are loved!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: ** Thank you all so much for reading. I'm flattered and honored by the response I've gotten so far on chapter one. I hope this chapter lives up to expectations. Also, this story will be long. How do I know? I'm working on this fic for NaNoWriMo. Wish me luck.

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It had been a week since Peter had seen Chris, and in that week Peter had done everything in his power to avoid the hunter. It hadn't worked. Had Peter believed in a higher power he would have sworn that something was working against his plan to avoid Chris Argent as it did not matter where he went, Chris was there. The grocery store? There was Chris. The school to check in on Scott and Stiles? There was Chris. Meeting up with John in town for coffee? Damn it to hell Chris had been there too. It didn't help that when he would eventually fall asleep at night, Chris was there in his dreams as well.

Perhaps some higher power was trying to tell him something.

But that wasn't the only thing on his mind. Derek had been sneaking out, thinking he was being all super stealthy werewolf, when in reality it was almost impossible for a werewolf to sneak away from the pack. What with their heightened senses and all that Peter knew what was going on at all times in the Hale house. Including when his nephew snuck out.

"You were out all night again." Derek looked like he had been shocked with a cattle prod; his eyes went wide turning to stare at his alpha, surprised that the older man was still awake. "The house is protected Derek…Stiles will be alright."

And then there was the kicked dog look that seemed to be easy enough for anyone in his family to pull off. It was the sort of look that when they were all younger, it could have made it so they could get away with murder. Peter knew better. Peter knew just why Derek had once again snuck out of the house, and he knew where his nephew had gone. It was always the same place. It was always to the Stilinksi house.

"There is no harm in just making sure," Derek muttered going to hang up his coat by the door. The fact of the matter was, Derek was probably right; there was absolutely no harm in making sure that a family of humans who were loyal to his pack was safe. Then again, Derek had gone out and risked his neck in doing so. "I couldn't get in. And Stiles wasn't even there."

"With the McCall kid?" Peter asked, leaning forward in his seat, looking at his nephew intently. Derek nodded. His stomach was churning nervously, while he had made sure that Stiles and his father were safe, the thought had not exactly crossed his mind to make sure that Melissa and Scott would be safe as well. "At his house?"

Derek shook his head. "No. Mrs. McCall said they were over at that new girl's house."

Peter was out of his seat in the next instant, slamming Derek into the wall. "Scott, the new werewolf, the werewolf who was turned by the rogue is out with the hunter's daughter? At her house? Oh in what world did you think that that would be a good idea Derek?" His eyes glowed red, a growl low in his throat.

"They are hunters Peter…their house would be the second safest place besides here." Derek struggled, trying to force Peter back away from him. "Let me go."

"Why should I?" Peter's claws sank into Derek's shoulder. "You disobeyed me, and now a member of our pack is in danger and a new wolf is in the hands of the hunters. Why should I let you go?" He was angry. It was irrational, but he was angry and he couldn't stop himself. It had been getting worse since the fire, his ability to control the emotional outbursts. When it came to the safety of his family, of his pack, he could barely contain any form of emotion.

"Peter…" A soft voice said from behind him. Her scent filled the room and Peter closed his eyes stepping back away from his nephew to turn to face her, face Laura. "It's not his fault." Her right arm was still bandaged from the rogue's bite, it was taking longer to heal than normal. The look on her face, the way her hair was pulled back, she looked almost exactly like her mother. "We can go check on them, make sure they are safe."

She moved to stand by Derek, pressing a towel to the bloody wound on his shoulder. The two of them looked at him, a flicker of fear in each of their eyes. "You two stay here…" he eventually told them. "I'll go by myself. Easier to make it so no one knows I'm there."

He didn't take no for an option, he didn't stay to listen to their concerns, he was out the door within a few seconds. Not a moment later, his paws hit the ground and he was off running through the woods. Leaves and twigs crunched and snapped beneath his weight, the night was alive, bustling with the sounds of birds, of large cats and small animals. But none of them would dare challenge him, the animals were smarter than to go after a wolf.

The wind ruffled his dark fur, the cool air nipped at his nose. He loved running, it made him feel alive, and he felt free. He lifted his nose to the wind and took a breath, breathing in the scents around him, searching, trying to find the one distinct one that was Stiles. It was faint, but it was there on the wind and god damn it all if he could smell it they were surely outside. Of all the idiotic things they could possibly do, being outside at night was at the top of that list.

He made a mental note to give both Stiles and Scott a very long lecture about being idiots and being smart and what someone should and should not do when there's a rogue werewolf running about.

Idiots. The both of them.

It was easy enough for him to follow the scent all the way to the house. It stank of Argent, of hunters and with the slight aroma of wolfsbane. He couldn't get that close, any closer and it would probably make him feel sick to his stomach. Or it might not have, it could probably just be that there was wolfsbane inside the house and not actually in the impeccably kept garden out back and along the empty driveway. Where the kids were.

Peter recognized them. Scott was practically fawning over Allison, who seemed to be unable not to smile at him. Lydia was talking to her boyfriend, Jackson, if his memory of one of Stiles's ramblings were correct. And then there was Stiles himself who was sitting alone and just watching the two couples. The third (or in this case fifth) wheel.

They looked happy, innocent, and his heart ached uncomfortably. It reminded him so much of his years in high school before the fire, back when he, John, Melissa, and Alan were all friends and everything was so much simpler. Then it all went to hell and shit hit the ceiling fan and well. There are some things that certain friendships could not survive.

Like having your sister murder the majority of your family. That certainly would kill any relationship.

Everyone seemed safe. Everyone seemed okay. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Perhaps his fears had been misplaced, it was possible he could have been wrong.

The wind blew and Peter's blood ran cold. That scent, wet fur, blood, musk. The fur on the back of his neck stood on end, a growl forming low in his throat. His eyes scanned the darkness searching for-there behind the kids. A pair of glowing red eyes.

Slowly, he stalked towards the group, keeping his form low, hidden by the shadows. Every part of his body told him to howl, to get Derek and Laura there as soon as possible, but that would alert the creature to his presence. That was something he couldn't do just yet.

He was close, close enough he could make out its form in the darkness, crouched, ready to strike. The beast was staring at the children, at Scott and at Stiles. It knew one of them was his creation, but it couldn't tell which. The situation was bad, and none of the kids noticed anything, not even Scott.

The moment it started to move towards them, the moment it leapt from the darkness, Peter lunged forward.

Someone screamed as he slammed his body into the rogue's sending it flying back towards the house. It hit the wall, slid to the ground and got back to its feet, not even stunned. It growled, claws scraping against the stone patio.

Peter stood in front of the kids, teeth bared, ears tilted back in anger. The pounding of the frightened teen's hearts was distracting, but motivating. He tilted his muzzle to the sky and let out a howl, the sound cutting through the night air clear, crisp, and haunting.

"Look out!" Stiles shouted, and Peter snapped his gaze back towards the rogue wolf just in time to move out of the way from its swipe of its clawed paw.

He hadn't been fast enough, his shoulder exploded with pain, the scent of blood filled his nose. The growl that escaped his throat was animalistic as he lunged forward using his powerful hind legs to propel him forward. His jaws locked around the back of the creature's neck, the coppery taste filling his mouth almost instantly. It roared in pain, reaching around to claw him, trying to dislodge him. Peter wouldn't let go. He was determined to drag the damn thing away.

All he had to do was give the pups a chance to get back inside and away from it.

He never smelled their arrival. He never heard the running footsteps, the orders being snapped. He never heard the sound of the gun.

Peter let go of the rogue's neck and dropped to all fours staring at Chris Argent, eyes cold, gun pointed at him. It wasn't until it felt like his viens were on fire that he had even registered that he had been hit. His form shook, the change coming unwilled and unwanted. No he did not want to change in front of them. Not again. Not like this.

The wolfsbane had hit its mark. Peter hit the ground hard, a strangled growl escaping his mouth as he clutched at his stomach. It burned. Fire. Pain. Bloody hell it was worse than being trapped in the fire.

Stiles was by him, fear in his eyes. What was going on? No he couldn't even think well enough to comprehend it.

"Get away from him." That was Stiles it had to be Stiles. But who was he talking too. He turned his red eyes towards where the kid was standing, god it took so much of his strength just to do that. Argent. He was there. He was staring.

And then Derek showed up, shifted, claws extended. Laura croutched down by Peter, and he could hear the both of them snarling. There were people, talking. Shouting. Bloody hell he couldn't think. His claws scraped at his skin, fangs tearing at his mouth. Agony, pure agony. Wolfsbane alone wouldn't do this.

With all the strength he could muster, he forced himself to his feet. He must have looked as bad as he felt, the horror struck looks he was getting from the hunters were a pretty good indication of that. Well…that and the fact Derek was probably about to rip their throats out. He placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder and felt the other man tense as Peter took one step forward, another, till he was standing directly in front of Chris Argent again.

"This…is the thanks I get for saving your daughter?" he hissed at him. Granted it was not as threatening as it might have been due to the poison pumping through his veins. "Your family tried to kill me once. They won't succeed again." Peter meant to turn his back on him, meant to walk away. Instead he stumbled and nearly fell, but Chris caught him.

"You're an idiot…" The hunter muttered and easily lifted the injured alpha into his arms. "Alan still in town?" Peter nodded, his body shaking, shivering despite the fact he was fairly certain his veins were filled with lava at that point. "I'm taking him to-" Peter never heard what Chris said next, darkness consumed him.

* * *

"He doesn't want to see you Chris."

There was someone talking…someone talking to Chris. What the hell was the hunter still doing there? But who the hell was the person speaking?

"I just want to make sure he's alright Alan…"

Oh. Deaton. Right. That would have been the smart thing to do. At least someone was intelligent enough to realize that 'oh look Peter's dying we should take him somewhere to get fixed up.'

"Then call and ask John, I'm sure he'd be willing to tell you."

Peter groaned softly, aware of the table he was laying on, the absolutely ice cold table he was on. His head throbbed and it took him few tries before he could actually open his eyes wide enough to take in his surroundings. He glanced towards the voices only to find a closed door, then to his other side where Derek and Laura sat.

Derek was pale, extremely pale, his face completely devoid of emotion. Laura's eyes were filled with tears.

Slowly, painfully, he sat up a groan falling off of his lips. Their eyes snapped towards him. "I'm not dead yet you two…." And then Laura was on him, practically crawling into his lap, burying her face in his neck as a new wave of tears fell from her eyes. "Hey it's alright I'm here…" he whispered to her, stroking her hair softly, his arms wrapped around her.

He glanced towards his nephew who just stood there frozen. Peter held out his arm to him, but his nephew didn't move, just stared at him. It was shock that stilled the wolf's actions, and, Peter assumed, that it would be a while before Derek would actually be able to process what had just happened.

God he didn't imagine what would have happened had that bullet actually killed him.

Peter pressed a soft kiss to Laura's temple, holding her protectively. The sound of the door opening caught his attention. Of course something would happen to ruin the moment and right then Peter would have liked nothing more than to get off the table and slam that door shut.

"Welcome back to the world of the living Peter." Dr. Alan Deaton had a smile on his face as he moved towards the werewolf, Laura slipping out of Peter's arms. "Lay back for me Peter." Peter, for once, did what he was told. When Deaton lifted the bandage on his abdomen, he nearly gagged at the foul odor that came from the wound. "The combination of wolfsbane and silver did damage….you're lucky that you got here before it spread to your heart."

"You mean I'm lucky that the hunter didn't want to start a war?" And there was the look that most of his friends seemed to know would get him to shut up and be serious. "Guess I am lucky." He certainly didn't feel lucky.

Deaton pressed the bandage back down. "It will take some time to heal, so no galavanting all over the city."

"Well there goes that dance party I was going to…"

"Peter."

"Alright alright I'll be good."

That seemed to satisfy the man as he helped Peter sit back up. "Are you up for some visitors?"

"Do I actually have a say?"

The vet grinned at him and shook his head as he opened the door. The first thing Peter noticed was Stiles running into the room and peering at him nervously, his dad following him. Then, behind them stood Chris Argent. Who Peter had no intention to even give the time of day to. Even if he did save his ass.

What he did not expect was for John to give him a tight hug. "Thank you…you saved him…" John said in a hushed, strained voice that Peter had only heard once before. "I don't know what I would have done if…" And that last time had been when John's wife died.

Peter put an arm around his friend. "Don't have to thank me my friend. Just be glad I was there."

That was when his eyes met Chris's, and time seemed to slip away. He knew that there were other people in the room, that Laura was talking to Stiles while Derek hovered around the teenager protectively, that John and Alan had started talking, but none of it mattered. "Can…you all give us some privacy?" The room went silent, all eyes shifting from to the hunter and back. "Now would be preferable."

Laura seemed like she wanted to object, but Deaton managed to get her out of the room, much to her apparent dislike. The others soon left, the door closing behind them with a soft click. And they were alone.

Peter swung his legs off the table and stood up, shaky, but able to stand on his own. He snatched the shirt from the counter and made about putting it on. The silence was making him nervous, anxious. He hadn't been alone with this man in…god he had no idea how long it had been. "Thank you for saving me…"

"You're welcome." He hoped that would be it, he hoped that Chris would turn and leave. After all the man had shot him. "Peter I didn't…I was aiming for…"

He turned to face him. "I know…"

"My daughter…I couldn't. I lost focus." Chris shook his head, his hands shaking. "I never miss. I don't miss. But Allison…" Peter could smell the tears starting to form, could hear his heart racing. It was too much…and damn it all he did care. "I couldn't lose someone else…The fire…" That struck a cord with him, and all the anger and hate he had been trying to feel towards the hunter was gone. Chris had been there that night, had tried to save him from the fire and nearly died in the process. "I lost you…I couldn't lose my daughter…"

With all the courage he could muster, and ignoring the tiny voice in his head that was screaming at him that this was the worst idea he had ever had, Peter stood in front of him. "I know Chris…" He brushed his knuckles against the other man's cheek, ran his thumb over his jaw. Peter let his palm rest against Chris's cheek and felt the man press against his hand.

Again, Chris had bared his neck to him, again he was offering himself to him. This time, Peter accepted (despite the increasingly annoying voice of reason in his brain). He wrapped his arm around the hunter's waist, running his nose over his neck, breathing in his scent. God he had forgotten how much he had loved it, how much he had missed it when he had been forced to leave. Peter brushed his lips against his skin, feeling the man in his arms shudder against him.

As he pulled back to meet Chris's gaze again, everything in him told him this was a bad idea. There had been a very good reason why Peter had left him all those years ago.

"_If you come near him again, I will kill him…"_

Chris let his forehead rest against Peter's his eyes closed, his heart pounding hard in his chest. Was he nervous? Just as nervous as Peter was? He must have been. The hunter slipped his arms around him holding him gently so not to aggravate the wound to Peter's side. "I love you…"

"_If you come near him again, I will kill him…"_

Nothing else mattered. Not his pack, not the rogue, not the people standing just in the next room. At that moment Peter did not even care about the threat, he didn't care about the past. The only thing that mattered was the man in his arms.

"I love you too." His voice was barely above a whisper as he brought their lips together, kissing him for the first time in…in…he couldn't remember how long it had been. Did it even matter anymore? Just the fact that he was standing there with Chris in his arms, their lips moving against one another's, that was what mattered. And oh how he wanted it to go on forever. But it couldn't. Not when they were in Deaton's office with people standing just beyond the door anxiously waiting to see if either man would try and kill the other.

If only they knew.

Reluctantly Peter pulled back from the kiss, bringing his hand up to rest against the other man's cheek again. "I promise you Chris…I'll never leave you again. Nothing will happen to you or your family. I will keep you safe."

"Peter…Peter come on open your eyes."

A frown formed across the alpha's lips. What the hell?

"Wake up Peter…"

The world around him melted away, Chris melted away.

"Come back to us Peter."

And then he opened his eyes. The world was blurry, the ceiling dark, the bed below him comfy and warm. There was a figure but at that moment he couldn't make it out. It just looked like a blob.

"Morning sleeping beauty." Deaton.

Peter groaned and tried to sit up. "What happened…?"

"You were shot with a silver bullet laced with wolfsbane." Yes, he could recall that very well. Could recall the entire night very well. "You've been out cold for almost a full day now."

"Are the children?"

"They're fine." Deaton paused looking at him. "It did kill someone."

His stomach dropped, it felt like he was falling. "Who?"

"Isaac Lahey's father."

"Is the boy okay?"

Deaton shook his head. "No. Derek and Laura went out to find him."

Peter shut his eyes again, sinking back into his pillows. It was not something he needed. He didn't want to deal with another brand spanking new werewolf. Dealing with that idiot Scott was hard enough.

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**Reviews are loved!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I apologize to people who are reading my other fics, I probably will get around to update them soon. Probably. I make no promises. Anyways, here's the next chapter! Thank you all so much for following this story. If you want to track my progress with nanowrimo, go to the website and search "FantastyWolf" That's me. It'll show you the progression I have made on it thus far.

Enjoy!

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"Would you please stop hovering?" Peter asked, a soft growl in his voice. He leaned against the counter, able to hear Laura behind him. Hovering. Again. Like she had been for the past several days while he recovered from the wonderfully poisoned bullet wound in his gut. "I swear I am going to live. Deaton gave me the all clear."

He filled his mug of coffee again and turned to face her. Only now that he was actually looking at her he felt like a total jerk for snapping. There was concern in her eyes, a fear and worry that he knew was a result from losing most their family in the fire. Watching him on the table nearly dying must have triggered some sort of PTSD, which would explain the hovering.

"Laura…" he said, his features softening, motioning her to come closer. When she did he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "You won't lose me, I promise." Her unspoken response came in the form of a soft whine as she rested her head against his shoulder, black hair tickling his skin. "I swear I'm fine. That rogue won't kill me, the hunters won't. You're stuck with me for a long time missy."

"You make it sound like a threat," she muttered looking up at him with her blue eyes, eyes exactly like her mother's, she and Derek both had them.

"Maybe it was." He tapped her nose, and hugged her again. "Regardless kid, I'm here and you can't get rid of me that easily." Though it was starting to seem like he could barely leave the house without something trying to barbeque him, shoot him, or rip his throat out.

The sound of a car caught his attention and he glanced towards the main hall. Sheriff Stilinski had arrived with Stiles, and the newest wolf, the now orphaned Isaacy Lahey. It had taken quite a lot of convincing (and more paper work than Peter was willing to admit to signing), but the courts had agreed to name Peter his legal guardian. With no blood relatives still alive, the pup had no one. It had not been that hard to convince a judge, something about being the best friend of the Sheriff must have helped his case.

Actually it was probably the only reason why. Peter wasn't registered with the foster care system to be a foster parent, nor was he in any way related to Isaac. But with a good word from the Sheriff and Dr. Deaton, the judge agreed to let the boy go live with them. It was for the best anyways. If Peter had had to prove why he was the best option for a place for Isaac to stay well…The conversation would have been awkward, and there would have been a lot of screaming.

Silly humans with their fear of monsters.

There was a knock at the door, and Peter made his way into the front hall to open it. He winced slightly as he pulled open the door, pain shooting up from the wound to his side. It was, in reality, some sort of hell that he couldn't describe. The wound was clean, the poison out of his system for the most part. It was just the skin around his wound that was still infected. But he put on a brave face and grinned brightly.

"Well Sheriff Stilinski it's always a pleasure to see your smiling face." John scowled at him as Stiles dashed inside, probably on his way to find Derek. "He's in his room Stiles," Peter called after him shaking his head. "Come on in you two." He stepped aside, allowing them both to enter.

Isaac was more or less hiding behind John, a backpack on his back and a duffle bag in hand. The kid looked upset, and he smelled of fear. Peter felt the urge to pull him into a hug and make all the pain go away. But if what John had told him about the relationship between Isaac and his father was true then that would probably not be the smartest idea.

"Is Melissa bringing Scott?" John asked as he hung up his jacket.

"I did invite them, whether or not they actually show up, that's to be determined." Peter watched Isaac, the way he held his head low, the way he sort of shuffled about looking around. "Laura, could you come here for a moment?"

She nearly bounded into the room, a bright glimmer in her eyes at the prospect of her uncle asking for her and not berating her for hovering over him like a worried parent. She stopped when she saw Isaac.

"Laura this is Isaac, he's going to be staying with us for a while. Can you show him up to his room?" Peter asked, looking from the instant mothering look she had on her face, to Isaac glancing nervously at her.

"Which one is it?" Laura asked, tilting her head to the side slightly, eyes still fixed on Isaac, studying him.

"The one next to yours."

Laura held out her hand. "I'm Laura."

Isaac hesitated a moment before he shook her hand. "Isaac."

"Welcome to the Hale house Isaac. Come on I'll show you around. Grand tour and all that." That seemed to get a small smile out of the young wolf, and Peter watched as she led Isaac upstairs to give him the 'grand tour' of the house.

Peter glanced at John before making his way back into the kitchen. "That bad?"

"Worse than you can imagine Peter…" John sank down into one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "Thanks," he muttered under his breath and Peter sat a bottle of beer down in front of him. "The man locked him in a freezer. His own son. He deserved what he got."

Had the man not have been dead, Peter would have gone to the Lahey house and killed him himself. He hated anyone who did something like that to a child. An innocent child for godsake. What on earth could Isaac have done to warrant that kind of treatment? Never before had Peter been thankful for the rogue wolf till that moment.

"He'll be safe here John." He brought his mug of coffee to his lips to take a sip, only to hear a knock at the door. "I'll be damned the McCalls are actually on time."

While John snorted into his beer, Peter grinned to himself as he went to get the door again. "Melissa." He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her on the cheek. "And you're not even late, I'm flattered."

She hugged him back and swatted his shoulder. "I'm not always late Peter. Only when you ask me to do something." She hugged him again, holding onto him for a moment. "It's great to see you…"

"And you too…" He returned the embrace, then pulled back to allow her and her son inside. Though he nearly slammed the door in his face. He stared as Scott and Allison walked into the house and upstairs to join Stiles and Derek. "Melissa…"

"I know I know but he refused to come without her and there was nothing I could do about it."

"I don't need some hunter's spawn in my house."

"Peter look if it were up to me she wouldn't have come with us."

"She's probably here to spy."

"On what? It's not like you're making battle plans." Melissa put her hands on her hips, nudging the door closed with her foot. "Would you for once just relax? She's as big a part of this as John and Alan are."

"Alan can't be here tonight."

"Perfect. We'll need just one extra place at dinner then."

"I suppose." Peter was anything but happy about having Allison there.

And then his mind caught up with her words. "What do you mean one extra place?"

"I invited someone else."

"Melissa…"

There was a knock at the door.

"Oh good he's here."

"You didn't…" But he already knew the answer, bloody hell he could tell whom it was without even having to open the door.

Melissa grinned and opened the door. "Chris you made it."

Peter turned his back to the door, his stomach tying itself into an uncomfortable knot that wouldn't go away no matter how much he tried. He was there, Peter could smell him, could practically feel the heat of his skin as he stepped into the house.

"I'm going to go say hello to John." He heard her say and shot her a rather angry look as she vanished into the kitchen.

The two of them, werewolf and hunter, stood there in silence. Peter couldn't bring himself to look at the man. God he couldn't not after his oh so wonderful make out dream while he had been unconscious. Which was Chris's fault.

How the hell was he even still in love with this man?

Oh right. His mate.

"Thank you…" Peter froze his body going stiff at the sound of Chris's voice. "Thank you for saving my daughter." Suddenly Peter had regretted that, had he not saved her perhaps Chris wouldn't have had a reason to even come this close to the house. Or see him again. Why the hell did he save her?

Moral code. Damn his moral code.

"You're welcome," Peter muttered turning to face him but refusing to look at him. "Melissa invited you?"

"She thought I should be here."

"I don't want you here."

"You're lying."

"Stop reading me like a god damn book."

"Stop lying to me and maybe I won't have to."

"Go to hell."

"You first."

That was all the provoking Peter could take. In an instant he had Chris pinned against the wall, his eyes red, lips drawn back in a snarl. He was so close to him, could feel the heat from his body, and it would be so easy to just close the distance and kiss him. But true to his hunter trainings, Chris didn't even flinch. "You are in my house Chris. My rules apply. So you better shut up and be on you best behavior or I will make you regret setting foot in here." Unfortunately, his threat was only half as scary as he would have liked, the sudden jarring movement had re-opened his wound. He could smell the blood before he felt anything. And when he did…

Peter stumbled back a few steps, his hand going to his side, hissing in pain. His eyes flashed to Chris again. "This is your fault."

"You keep telling yourself that…" Chris shook his head, taking Peter by the elbow, leading him to the upstairs bathroom. "Take off your shirt."

"Oh there's no way in hell."

"Take off the damn shirt Peter and let me take a look at your wound."

"Want to see the damage you caused?" The look in his eyes, the anger, the frustration, and the guilt in Chris's eyes shut Peter up in an instant. Much to his dislike, he took off his shirt. The bandage on his side was covered with blood again.

"Take a seat."

Peter sat down on the edge of the tub, watching Chris warily. It wasn't that he didn't trust the hunter not to know how to care for his wound, it was clear that he did from the various items he pulled from the medicine cabinet, it was more that Peter didn't trust himself, shirtless around him. It was all too intimate and made him uncomfortable. Though he would admit to himself that he wasn't as uncomfortable to be shirtless around Chris as he probably should have been.

Chris knelt by his side, arranging the various things he had grabbed on the floor beside him. "Arm up." Peter did as he was told, and raised his arm up, pressing his hand against the wall. "And do try to hold still."

"Easier said than done," he muttered as Chris undid the bandage. Peter watched his face, watched the wince, the frown that creased his forehead. Guilt. Good. Chris deserved to feel guilty for shooting him.

Neither of them spoke as Chris set about cleaning the still open wound. Deaton had not bothered to sew it up, something about if he had it could sew in some sort of infection or the poison that had caused the infection to not heal correctly could seep back into his blood stream. Both options made Peter squirm, but not as much as Chris using iodine to clean it.

"Peter hold still."

"Make me," he hissed at him, flinching away from the offending cloth with the stinking yellow liquid. "That stuff burns."

"You're acting like a five year old," Chris replied placing his other hand on Peter's back in an attempt to get the man to sit still.

"What is with you all and thinking I'm a five year old?" Peter glowered down at him, attempting to pout only to have Chris press that goddamn cloth with that fucking iodine on his wound again. "Bloody hell Chris that hurts!"

"Maybe it wouldn't if you would hold still." Peter growled softly at him and Chris swatted his nose. He actually swatted him. "Yes I did just do that and I'll do it again if you growl at me."

Peter looked at him, met his gaze, and suddenly every reason why he had fallen in love with him in the first place came flooding back to him in such a rush it took all his strength not to break down. He wanted to grab him, press their lips together, whisper to him about how much he loved him, how he was sorry for it all. It should not have been that hard to resist, but damn it all it was.

Finally, he managed to pry his eyes away from him; staring down at his feet while Chris finished bandaging up his wound. He hissed slightly as Chris pressed the bandage to his skin and taped it down. It was over and soon Chris would be stepping away from him.

Or that was what he had thought. A chill went up his spine as he felt Chris slide his hand up his back coming to rest on his shoulder. Peter turned to look at him, Chris now sitting next to him on the edge of the tub. Chris pressed his forehead to Peter's, his hand moving to rest on top of Peter's. The touch sent a spark through his entire body. "What happened to us Peter?"

How many times he had asked himself that same question, and there was only one real answer he could give him. Peter reached up brushing his fingers against his cheek. "Our families..." It wasn't a complete lie. After all, Peter was a werewolf and Chris was a hunter.

"They had never come between us before…" There was a look of sorrow that came over Chris's features, a look of longing and regret. "I keep thinking back, trying to see what happened…"

"Chris…don't. There was nothing you could have done."

"You're lying again."

They fell silent again, just gazing into each other's eyes, foreheads touching close enough they could kiss… Peter stroked his thumb against his cheek watching the emotions flick through his eyes.

Chris pulled back, away from his touch and Peter frowned watching him. The hunter glanced towards the floor then met his gaze again. "Tell me…tell me you feel nothing for me. Look me in the eyes and tell me that, and I'll leave you alone. You won't have to see me unless it's for business or randomly around town."

"I feel nothing for you," he told him, staring directly into his eyes. There was a look of pain in the hunter's eyes, and Peter forced himself to look away, standing up to leave the bathroom. Chris had asked him to so he answered. It was as simple as that. However, Chris seemed to have a sixth sense of knowing when he was lying ever since they were in high school.

The next moment, before Peter could even realize what was happening, his back was against the wall, Chris's body pressed up against his. The hunter smirked at him, leaning in so very close their lips were inches apart. They were close, so close and Peter was having a hard time handling the overwhelming sensations, feelings, desires that sprang up from the deepest part of his heart and brain. It was consuming him. He was so close to his mate, and it was driving him insane.

"You're lying…" Something close to a whine escaped Peter's lips as Chris ran his hands up his chest, gripping at his shoulders. "Tell me the truth Peter."

His hands gripped Chris's waist, his whole body shaking slightly. He opened his mouth to answer, ready to finally admit to Chris what exactly he felt for him. And then the door flew open.

Laura let out something close to a shriek. "Oh my god! I am so sorry Peter! I didn't mean." The door slammed shut.

Peter was staring at the back of the door, completely stunned, in shock of what had happened. His niece had opened the door. She had shrieked and slammed the door. Bloody hell she had seen them together. Peter pushed Chris off of him, snatching his shirt off of the ground.

"Peter look about what just happened."

"Don't." Peter looked at Chris for a moment then turned his back to him again. "Tonight, midnight." He closed his eyes taking a breath. "Meet me by our spot in the woods." With that he left the room, going to get a new shirt from his bedroom.

As soon as he stepped out of his bedroom, dressed in a new not blood stained shirt, he nearly ran right into Laura. She was grinning, a grin that said she knew exactly what had just happened. "Don't you say anything." She just smiled and went back into the room where the rest of the pups were.

Peter ran a hand through his hair, then went downstairs to the kitchen where his two friends, and Chris, were waiting for him. "Okay so let's get started then?"

"You two were gone for a long time." Melissa managed to have the same exact smile on her face that Laura did. What the hell were they in cahoots or something?

"Opened up my wound, Argent helped me out," Peter replied leaning against the counter.

"Peter is by far the worse patient ever." Chris shot him an annoyed look and Peter just snorted. "Why did you call us here Hale?"

"Actually I called John and Melissa. Not you. You weren't invited." Peter folded his arms over his chest. "Anyways back to the subject at hand. The rogue has made it clear that he is after Scott, and since he has just turned Isaac he'll be coming for him too." He looked at Melissa and John. "The full moon is tomorrow night. I want both of them here before sunset."

"Wouldn't it be safer to keep them away from a bunch of werewolves?" Chris asked, asking an obvious question that Peter wanted to throttle him for asking.

"You'd be surprised. The basement is designed to keep werewolves locked up during the full moon. My father's idea." Peter paused glancing down towards the floor. "That is where I want Isaac and Scott to be. They can't get out, they won't be drawn towards the alpha. And since it is their first full moon and they are bound to be going nuts, they can't hurt anyone."

"What about Stiles?" John asked confusion in his eyes. "I don't see why-"

"Because my nephew would die before he'd let something go after Stiles. Derek will keep him safe. Stiles is his anchor."

His words hung in the air, and each person had a different reaction. Melissa's eyes softened, a smile on her face. John closed his eyes, nodding his head in understanding. As for Chris, he stared directly at Peter. Oh Chris knew exactly what it meant to be someone's anchor. Reason number…god he couldn't even remember what reason he was on for why he was angry at the man who he was, for some bizarre reason, still madly in love with.

He took a breath, hardly able to believe he was about to make the offer. "Allison is welcome to stay here. Should something happen with Scott…" He was praying that the hunter would disagree and demand that his daughter stay home.

"No. I may trust you to keep the others safe, but not with my daughter."

"So be it."

He glanced at Melissa and John, then at Chris again. "I can't lie to you three. I'm not going to be as strong as I normally am…" Normally, Peter would not admit that he was afraid; he liked making people feel safe and cared for, it was an instinct of his to protect his pack. However…in that minute… He had no other choice. "I'm scared. I don't know if I'll even survive the full moon. All I want is for you all to be safe…" He shut his eyes, doing his best to keep his nerves at bay. "John you still have the bullets my father gave you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Melissa I want you to stay with John that night. You'll be safer there."

"I'm working the night shift."

Peter wrinkled his nose. "Then don't leave work without either myself or John with you."

"I can pick her up," Chris offered. As much as Peter did not like that idea he did not really see any other option.

"Fine." He shook his head. "Just please be careful all of you. If I lose someone else, another member of my pack." He looked at Chris, held his gaze, hoping he'd understand that this applied to him too. "I am not sure I'd be able to stay the alpha. I'm not sure I could handle it." And he meant that. If he lost another member of his pack, mentally, he was almost certain that it would destroy him.

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**Reviews are loved and greatly appreciated! I read and respond to pretty much every single one I get so don't hesitate to leave one. Please. They make me smile. :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** I had planned to have this posted much sooner, but things got stressful this week so here it is now at the very least. Hope you all like it.

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"Where are you going?"

Peter stopped short, his hand on the back door. It was a few minutes before midnight, and he did not actually have time to play twenty questions with his niece. "It's really none of your business." He pulled it open and was just about to step outside when her next question stopped him dead in his tracks.

"You're going to meet with the hunter aren't you?"

Of course she would have figured it out, it wasn't like she was an idiot or anything. That and she had caught them in the bathroom; hell she and Derek both had probably heard the entire conversation in the bathroom between him and Chris. One of the many downfalls of being a werewolf, there was absolutely no privacy and nothing was sacred. Everyone would always know what you were doing.

He closed the door and turned to look at her. "Derek know yet?" he asked putting his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket.

"You two were not exactly quiet about that conversation." She stood there in her pajamas, hair pulled back in a loose bun. "You're lucky Isaac wasn't actually trying to listen in or else the pup would know too."

Well that was just great. Peter ran a hand through his hair and moved back towards the living room, taking a seat on the couch. "If you want to know what that was about sit Laura and ask your questions."

She did, taking a seat across from him, legs tucked up under here. Not a moment later Derek appeared besides her looking at him. It felt like an interrogation. "Why did Chris Argent have you pinned against the wall?"

"Because I am a royal pain in his ass and he was trying to teach me a lesson."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Because he asked me a question and I lied."

"Do be more specific uncle."

It was an interrogation damn it all to hell. "It's really none of your business. Either of yours." He looked at them both, doing his best to fight back the urge to just get up and leave without another word. He respected them both far too much for that. They were staring their combined gaze so intense it made him squirm, which was not an easy feat he was proud to admit. "Chris was someone I knew in my past, someone who is very special to me."

"He's a hunter. He's one of them!"

"Calm down this instant or we're done here," Peter growled at Laura, his eyes flashing red for a brief instant. She slouched back into her chair, arms folded over her chest. "Your father explained to you about finding a mate right?" He could think back to the day when his father had explained it to him and Daniel could remember it like it had been yesterday. It had been the day he had broken up with Melissa. They nodded. "Chris is mine."

Derek's eyes glowed blue as a dangerous growl escape his mouth. Laura sat stunned staring at him, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. In retrospect their reaction could have been a lot worse. Hell he had been expecting a lot worse.

"Not exactly something that I like admitting to many people." He dropped his gaze down to the floor. "It drove me mad. I told no one, well no I told the girl I was dating at the time. You know her Laura." A hand flew to Laura's mouth silencing the gasp, clever girl she had figured it out.

Peter pushed himself up and out of the chair moving over to the yearbook that lay on the table. His yearbook from his senior year of high school, it had been a present from John Stilinski after the fire. The purpose of the gift had been to cheer him up, remind him he still had friends, people who cared about him. It worked.

He opened it to a specific page a photograph of a group of teens. "Here." He held it out to them. "That's who I was friends with in high school, they should all look familiar to you."

The photograph had five teenagers, four boys and one girl, all smiling. Beneath the photograph it was captioned with their names: Peter Hale, Chris Argent, John Stilinski, Melissa McCall, and Alan Deaton. They had been nominated for most inseparable group of friends, and they had won.

In the picture Chris had his arm around Peter's shoulders, and Peter had his arm around Chris's waist. Melissa had both her arms around the other two boys, on her right giving the camera a small smile was John, and to her left was Alan. They had been inseparable, not even the event at the end of their sophomore year of high school had separated them.

The only reason Peter had left Chris was to save him. The only people who knew the real reason were Melissa, John, and Alan.

"We thought we were on top of the world that year. And we were. Nothing brought us down. John got married to Amelia, Melissa married Frank." Peter smiled slightly and shook his head. "And in one swoop everything started to fall apart. Frank left, the fire, Amelia's death…"

"What about Chris?"

"You want the soap opera tale? Then hold on to your hats kids." Peter's hands had started to shake, he clasped them together not looking at the two younger wolves. "Chris and I started dating our Junior year. Despite everything we stayed together. He's my mate, my anchor, and my one weakness. I ended it with him after the fire…for personal reasons."

He turned to look at them for a moment. "If there's nothing else you two I am going to go meet with him because. Actually I don't have to tell you why since I am your alpha." He paused as he made his way back towards the back door. "Tell Isaac, he's allowed to know. But no one else. Not Scott, not Stiles, and certainly not Scott's girlfriend."

Peter was out of the house in the next moment, his body shifting changing into the form of a large black shaggy wolf. He was larger, stronger and faster. His red eyes glowed in the night as he ran towards the meeting spot. He was going to be late and it was entirely their fault.

The wind rustled his fur as he leapt up onto the rock formation that he and Chris had spent so much time on while growing up. He could think back to the night they had just lain there watching the stars; they had kissed that night. He shifted back, perched atop the rock watching the forest below him. The sounds, sights, and smells of the night were everywhere, they engulfed him, comforted him.

There in the darkness, he could hear Chris's heart beat, the sound of his footfalls as he came into the small clearing. A soft smile formed on Peter's lips. Oh it could very well be that Chris had come here with every intention of putting a silver bullet in his heart, or an arrow with the damn crossbow that was in his hand. "Did you really think I'd ask you here just to kill you? Honestly Chris I do have more class than that."

"This isn't meant for you," Chris replied looking up to where Peter was. "You going to come down here or am I going to have to climb up."

Peter smirked at him, motioning for him to come up. "You come up to me."

It only took Chris a minute before he was on top of the rock, standing beside Peter. "We're going to draw attention to ourselves up here."

"No one is out here besides us. And regardless I would hear them before they'd get to us." Peter straightened up, turning to face Chris. "I didn't think you'd actually show up."

"You asked me to." The shadows danced across Chris's face, cast by the nearly full moon that hung in the sky. "You said to come if I wanted to know the truth. I want to Peter. I deserve to know."

From beneath his shirt he drew out the pewter triskelion charm that Chris had given him so many years ago. "You gave this to me. My pack's symbol. I told you it meant alpha, beta, and omega." He let the small charm fall back down against his shirt. "It has more meaning than that. It can also mean past, present and future." A smile formed on his lips. "Chris Argent you are in my past, my present, and I have no doubt that you'll be there in my future. But not as my friend."

He heard Chris take a breath, their gaze meeting in the dark. Peter took one step, then another, until he was standing right in front of him. He brushed his hand against his cheek. "As my mate." Slowly, cautiously he leaned forward close enough that he could kiss him, and when Chris didn't push him back, he brushed their lips together. He pulled back looking into Chris's face, searching for some sign from him that Chris had not just been playing with his emotions. "I love you, nothing will ever change that."

Chris pressed his cheek into Peter's palm, a flicker of a smile passing over his lips. That was all the invitation Peter needed, and he pulled Chris into his arms holding him close to him. Did Chris deserve his forgiveness? Yes, of course he did. Chris had done nothing wrong. Peter could never hate him, could never stay mad at him, even if Chris had just so willingly accepted their break up. He did not blame him for the fire that was his sister's fault. It had not been Chris's fault that Peter had been forced to leave him.

"Did…you mean what you said at the meeting, that you don't know if you're going to survive the full moon?" Peter pulled back, their eyes meeting once more. There was fear there in Chris's eyes, fear that he might permanently lose him perhaps. Peter nodded. "Why?"

"The wound on my side, it hasn't healed. I won't be able to defend myself as well as I normally have been able to." Chris's heart began to beat faster. "No don't you even begin to start thinking that this is your fault. You were aiming for the rogue not me. I just got in the way." Chris's eyes glanced downward. "Hey hunter boy. Don't worry about me."

"That's not going to stop me, you do realize?"

"I've got something to fight for, something to keep me going."

"Do you now?"

"Yes you idiot." Peter chuckled brushing his lips against Chris's forehead. "It's you."

* * *

Peter was in the library the next afternoon, it was small and many of the shelves were still bare, but he had been making slow progress on restocking the collection that his parents had had before the fire. It was just something to distract himself from the upcoming night. Or at least that was what it was supposed to be; in reality nothing actually helped him to ignore the danger that the night would bring.

There was a chance that Scott, being the idiot that he seemed to be, would some how manage to slip Melissa's clutches and not show up. In which case the rogue could get to him and. Peter didn't want to think about that. Then of course there was his own pack. What if the rogue went after John and Melissa? What if Laura got hurt? What about Stiles? And Derek? And then of course there was-

"Is there something you need Isaac?" he asked turning to face the young wolf who almost instantly dropped his gaze. Peter studied him, his posture, the way he avoided his eyes. The boy was submissive. Too submissive. Peter didn't like that. He moved to sit on one of the dusty old couches and patted the spot next to him. Isaac didn't budge. "Hey I don't bite now come here."

Isaac sat down beside him, hands in his lap, eyes on the ground.

"What's on your mind pup?" Peter asked turning his body enough that he could look at him.

"Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what? Pup?" Isaac nodded. "You are a pup to me Isaac. I'm twenty-one years older than you. It's a term I use for the younger pack members, my niece and nephew included when they really get on my nerves." What was that? Did Isaac actually nearly smile? That was progress. "Some come on now. Talk to me."

"I'm frightened…"

"About tonight?" Again, Isaac nodded. "That's understandable. Frightening thing to be taken over by the wolf, but I can tell you from experience. If you fight it, it just makes it worse. The wolf inside you runs on instinct, your instincts. It wants to hunt, and run, and howl at the moon. We're not those bloody thirsty monsters Hollywood make us out to be."

"But…that one…my father."

"From what I heard your father deserved to be killed Isaac. You were given a gift. A chance to start a new with a new family who will care about you and keep you safe." Isaac was watching him, curious, interested. Progress. "That's what the pack is. A family that I will fight to defend every day I am alive. I've lost too many family members to let some one take anyone else from me." He put his hand on Isaac's shoulder squeezing it lightly. "You won't hurt anyone tonight Isaac. I've seen to that."

"How?" He asked not pulling away from his hand.

"The basement is designed to keep werewolves from getting out. Laura will be down there with you and Scott." He saw the boy tense, heard his heart race. "You won't be chained down and this is for your own protection. Laura will be there to help you, guide you, and keep you safe." It also meant he was cutting himself off from part of his pack. Not his best idea but…

His eyes widened slightly as Isaac basically crawled into his lap and clung to him, burying his face into his neck. How long it been since this kid last had someone care about him? Peter wrapped his arms around Isaac and held him close to him, protectively. "Nothing's going to harm you Isaac, not while I'm around."

* * *

"_Peter. Are you there?" Kathleen Hale's voice was hoarse, her words punctuated by coughing. The smoke made the air thick, heavy, and hot, burning his throat and lungs. _

"_I'm here," he replied, pushing against the damn mountain ash door that blocked his way into the room. "I'm here. What is it?"_

"_Forget about us. Save them Peter. Save my children."_

"_I can't do that Kathleen." There were tears falling down his face, from the smoke stinging his eyes or because…no he couldn't think about the other reason, he wouldn't admit to himself that he was frightened to lose them. Oh he was frightened, he couldn't leave them. He wouldn't leave them there to die. He sank his claws into the wood of the door ignoring the white-hot pain it caused as he continued to try and rip the thing down. But it was getting hard to breathe… Each breath took more and more effort. "I won't leave you all."_

_No answer just coughing, crying, and howling. _

"_Kathleen?" He managed to get out before he started to cough, hard. It felt like his throat was ripping itself apart. He sank to the ground, clawed hands scratching at the door, and still he was coughing. The smoke was too thick. He couldn't breathe. He tried to get as low as he could down away from the smoke, but he couldn't breathe…_

_And the world went black._

Peter was downstairs in the basement, staring at the mountain ash door that was currently propped open. It was dark in the basement, the light coming from a bulb in the ceiling. The stairs creaked as someone descended them, and Chris's familiar scent started to fill the room. "You shouldn't be here Chris." Peter didn't even have to look up to know that Chris had shown up. "You should be at home with your family."

"You should not act like you're going to die Peter. What was that? Telling us you might die?" The hunter sounded as angry as Peter imagined the look on his face to be.

"Been waiting to tell me this since last night haven't you?" Peter turned to face him, studying him. The man was dressed for a fight, black leather jacket, jeans, boots, and some shirt that Peter couldn't quite identify. "I had my reasons."

"And what were those?"

Peter glanced down, nudging the ground with his foot. "Laura. I needed to know that Melissa and John knew the risks…and their reactions. I know now they'll support her as alpha should anything happen."

"Don't talk that way Peter."

"I know I shouldn't." A frown formed on his lips. "But I don't want to take this situation lightly."

"No one is Peter." Chris placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, and Peter let his hand rest on top of his hand. "What's really on your mind? Don't you think for a second I can't see right through you."

"The last time someone targeted the Hale pack, only three of us survived." His grip on Chris's hand tightened slightly. "And I can't go through that again. I'd die for them Chris. I'd do it in a heart beat."

"You worry too much Peter." Chris gave him a faint smile and nodded back towards the house. "Laura and Derek are getting everything set for the full moon." The hunter tilted his head to the side. "You really are afraid aren't you?"

"I have every reason to be afraid of watching that thing kill them…" Peter said under his breath, closing his eyes. "I can't put them in harm's way Chris…I won't. I won't leave them unguarded to die. Not again…"

From the look that the hunter gave him Peter knew that Chris finally understood why he couldn't jut leave them, why he was afraid, and why he had told his friends that the night of the full moon could be his last.

If it came down to it, he'd die trying to kill the rogue. The only way he had been able to admit that to himself, was to admit it to his friends.

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**Reviews are loved!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** And now it's time for the full moon! Hopefully this chapter lives up to the expectations. I hope it does. I had fun writing this (stress relief I tell you).

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The moon shone down on the Hale house, casting shadows over its wooden frame. It was the night that Peter had dreaded, and the night that drew Peter to the very edge of his sanity. From the basement came the sounds of Isaac and Scott, the two young werewolves still testing out the boundaries with Laura. She could hold her own against them. She was not the kind of werewolf to take shit from two younger ones. Upstairs, Peter could just hear the heart beats of Derek and Stiles, along with the sounds of whatever science fiction show the two of them were watching that night.

They'd be fine, Peter was not worried about Derek or Stiles in the least. Even though the two childhood friends in the past had been known to cause all sorts of mayhem (normally because Stiles got bored of waiting for something to do). They were inseparable, much like how he and Chris had been growing up. Hell when Amelia Stilinski died, it had not been hard to figure out that Derek had returned each night to Beacon Hills just to be with Stiles. It was a bond that, while they might not be able to see it yet, Peter knew all too well. He would have bet thousands that Derek and Stiles were destined to be more than friends. Stiles was Derek's anchor, and quite possibly his mate.

So Peter was not worried. Derek would keep Stiles safe from whatever was out there, as he would do with Chris. He just hoped that it would be easier for them than it was for him and Chris.

His eyes already the red of his wolf side, stared up at the moon fixed on it. He hated it, it and everything it had caused. The moon was supposed to give them strength, release the beast within each of them. Where had it been when his sister had drowned? Where was it the night of the fire? It had been nowhere. The sky had been black as night and there had been no moon. Just darkness.

And Kate Argent.

A growl rumbled low in his chest, his mind drifting back to the night of the fire. That girl, the pretty little Katie Argent, Chris's sister. How he hated her. The sight of her holding the gun broke him. She had been his sister's friend; she had been there the night she died. And there she was again. Standing there at the site of his family's slaughter. Oh how it made his blood boil.

He could remember it well, the feel of his teeth sinking into her throat, the coopery taste of her blood as the veins were punctured. The wet gasps she made, the way her fingers clawed at him trying to get him to let go. And there was little he could compare to the absolute rush, the satisfaction that had come as he sank his claws into her chest. He wasn't about to let her die easily. No she had made his family suffer. She was going to as well.

Peter closed his eyes, forcing back the memory. Of all the nights to reminisce on the time he had murdered a hunter, a full moon was not one of them.

His entire body felt like it was vibrating, shaking with pent up energy that if he did not work off he figured he might combust regardless of the fact that spontaneous human combustion was possible or not. The memory of Kate, of killing her was still fresh in his mind and the impact that it had on him had not worn off. There was a taste, a figment of his imagination, of blood in his mouth, coppery, warm, and wet. He shouldn't have craved it so much; he was a werewolf not some sun-fearing vampire.

Then why, why did the moon, which had once made him feel safe and strong, now fill him to the brim with fear? What had changed?

The pack for one thing, now he had younger werewolves, and several humans that he had to take care for. He was protective, possessive and there was nothing that would stop him from keeping his pack safe. Except maybe a silver bullet or wolfsbane that might do it, considering that the only reason his wound was not bothering him was because of the full moon.

"Thought I told you to go home Chris." The alpha turned to face the hunter, his arms folded over his chest. "It'd be easier to protect your family if you were actually with them."

"See that's the thing about us hunters you never really learned Peter," Chris said resting his cross bow against his shoulder, the glint of the gun on his waist not missing Peter's eyes. "Not the men who are in charge. It's the women. If that thing tries to go against Victoria, it won't last long."

Peter scoffed, running a hand through his hair, his claws scratching against his scalp. "So you're here to make sure I don't go off my rocker then? That it?"

"Whether or not that now very wolf like brain of yours wants to admit it Peter Hale, my place is by your side. I came to make sure you were all right. I was on my way back from picking up Melissa, or did you forget you assigned me that task?"

"No you volunteered."

"Not the point and you know it." Chris looked at him, his eyes traveling up and down, studying him. "You are okay, aren't you?"

Peter frowned slightly and shrugged his shoulders returning his gaze up to the moon. "I've certainly had better nights." He paused, looking back at Chris, eyes red. "Thank you for coming to check up on me. Now go home Chris. I'll check in with you tomorrow."

The hunter cast him a look, longingly, but Peter turned his head away, listening as Chris left. It wasn't safe for him to be around Chris right then. He honestly did not trust himself to be near Chris, not when his instincts were screaming at him to do things that could easily put himself on the hunter's radar again.

So the great alpha sat there, staring at the moon, itching to get outside and run, but he did not dare leave his family unattended, not with the rogue out in the woods. He could hear it too, smell it, hell if it had been any closer Peter could have probably seen it. The wolf inside him struggled, fought with him to get out, to go after the intruder and kill it. He wanted to. He wanted to chase the rogue down and rip its throat out.

It had started moving away, away from the Hale house.

"Where are you going…" he muttered under his breath. "We're right here."

In the background, the clock ticked with each passing second. The night went on, the moon slowly traveling across the sky, the stars dancing around it. Peter had gone outside, unable to sit still anymore. He paced, walked around the house, listening to the world around him. There was no sign of the rogue, hell there was no sign of life in the woods at all. Not that that surprised him, most animals knew exactly what he was and chose to stay away.

Smart choice on their part, if they came too close…well Peter would actually get the hunt that he was itching for.

An audible whine escaped his mouth as he forced himself to go back inside the house. It was the opposite of what he wanted, but he had to check on Laura and Derek if he was to go out and run.

He went into the kitchen, to the basement door and pulled it open descending the stairs down to where his niece and the two young pups were. Laura sat just outside the door, fingers tangled in her hair, curled up into a tight ball. Her heart was racing, chest heaving, fighting the change with every fiber of her being. There was a soft growling coming from behind the door.

Peter knelt down by his niece, touched her shoulder, and she looked at him, her eyes gold and the tips of her canines peaking out from below her lips. In that moment, Peter shoved all thoughts of running, of leaving them behind. If he was going out, they were coming with him.

"We're going out. Them too, the rogue moved away." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Derek will stay here with Stiles."

Laura nodded getting to her feet, as Peter returned back to the main floor. Time to tell his nephew what was going on.

When he got to the room he knew the two of them were in from the sounds of their heartbeats, he stopped; one was slower than the other. A frown formed on his lips as he pulled open the door glancing inside. A pair of blue eyes met his, followed by a soft growl.

Stiles was asleep on the bed, Peter couldn't blame the kid it was well past one in the morning. Derek was sitting on the bed next to him, his facial features that of his beta form, his fangs bared at Peter. The defensiveness, the ability to sit so close to the human without attacking, Peter had no doubt in his mind that Stiles was Derek's anchor.

"Easy kid. I'm taking the others for a run…you two stay here." Peter held up his hands, watching as Derek's features returned to normal. "There's a jar of mountain ash in the hall closet. Get it. Line the door to this room and the window." His eyes returned to Stiles's sleeping form. "Keep him safe Derek."

The beta's hand moved to rest on Stiles's shoulder as Derek nodded, gazing down at the sleeping human with, was that love in his eyes? It had to be. He had been right. Bloody hell were all of his human pack members fated to fall in love with or become a werewolf?

He closed the door behind him as he left the two of them in the room, going back downstairs, back outside into the cool night air. His eyes fell on Laura, Isaac and Scott who were already in their beta forms, and a grin formed across his lips. He had not gone on a run with anyone other than Laura and Derek in a long time. It was a common thing for a pack, or well his family, to do, and each full moon he had. They'd go out, they'd hunt. So long as Scott and Isaac listened, then perhaps the tradition could start again.

"What are you three waiting for?" He asked winking at Isaac as he walked towards the woods. He could hear them, Scott and Isaac, and the soft whimpers and whines that came from truly shifting for the first time. They had two forms, one where it was just their features that changed what they called a beta form, and then a wolf form. Peter's wolf form was larger than theirs, but they each had one.

The dark gray wolf that darted ahead of him, he knew all too well. Laura was standing there, daring him to catch up. Soon two others, a brown one, and a gray one joined her. It was easy enough to tell the two apart, Isaac, the brown, stood very close to Laura. Scott on the other hand, didn't go near them he stood off to the side.

Peter dropped to all fours, his clawed paws hitting the ground, his bones breaking and reforming. The first time it had happened, it had hurt like nothing he had ever experienced before in his life, it got easier, and soon it was like changing his clothes. It was pleasurable, it brought him power, and he loved it. He glanced at the other three, making sure that they were still there. Oh he expected Scott to try and take off and run to see his little girlfriend, but Peter would see to that if he tried.

His steps quickened and soon he was running, the others following behind him. The leaves crunched beneath his paws, the smell of the musty earth made a smile form on his lips. Wind rustled his black fur.

A laugh-like bark came from one of them, probably Isaac. The kid would make a good werewolf, hell he'd make a fantastic beta for the pack. Isaac easily caught up to Peter and was running along side of him, glancing at him with his golden eyes. Pride swelled up inside of Peter and he sped up wanting to test the new comer.

Laura could handle Scott.

The smaller brown wolf easily caught up to him again, Isaac was fast, very fast. A fantastic quality to have. Peter slowed to a stop, turning to glance back at Laura and Scott, the other two catching up. Laura walked up to him and nuzzled under his jaw, a silent thank you from her. Isaac's tail was wagging, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted. He was the pup of the group, and the sight of him wagging only reaffirmed that belief.

Peter nudged Isaac with his muzzle, pushing him in a playful manor. Isaac pushed him back; tail still wagging a mile a minute. Peter could not even begin to comprehend how happy it made him to see Isaac enjoying himself, having fun. Hell the pup looked positively thrilled to be out there with the pack. It was a side of Isaac that Peter preferred, and was a major improvement from the sad boy that had come to him only a few days ago.

He was about to start running again, when a howl cut through the night. His gaze instantly turned to Scott and Isaac. Scott was shaking his head, pawing at his ears; Isaac had all but plastered himself to Peter's side, trembling. Another howl, this time it sounded victorious, taunting, and it felt like a weight had dropped in Peter's stomach.

The next moment he was off and running towards the source of the howl. If the others were following he did not care, not with the sense of dread filling his stomach to the point where he felt completely sick. His powerful legs carried him through the woods, fast, towards where the rogue was, and oh how he hoped his suspicions were wrong.

A gunshot rang out, and then another. The hunters. The Argents.

A gut wrenching fear shot its way through Peter's body. Chris was in danger. His mate was in danger.

He burst through the woods landing in the backyard of the Argent household. There was no one outside but he could smell the blood. And her. Allison was staring at him, her face smeared with blood, shaking. Scott was human in the next instant, clearly having followed him.

"Th-that thing it's inside. My dad. He told me to run." She was stammering. Peter wanted to shift back, wanted to ask her what had happened, but he couldn't. He wasn't in control of that part of his body anymore.

Laura, much to his delight, was. "Peter go," she said, her eyes still gold. "I'll call John and Alan." Isaac made as if to follow Peter, but stopped when Laura put her hand on him. "Stay here Isaac…You're not going to want to see this."

He didn't have to be told twice. Peter was inside the house, using the hole in the backdoor the rogue had created. His senses spun, the mixture of wolfsbane, of blood made his headache, but he had more important things to do than worry about his safety. His mate, for instance, who was trapped somewhere in the house with a monster.

Growling, cursing, another gun shot. Where the hell were they?

He lowered his nose to the ground, sniffing, finding the scent he wanted in the mixture of ones present. It had gone upstairs, so that's where Peter went, taking the stairs in one leap with his powerful legs. He didn't see the rogue, just a trail of blood and closed doors. Where was that thing?

He followed the blood to the room and nudged at the door with his nose. It opened. Thank god for his fast reflexes as he dropped his head, an arrow whizzing right past him.

"Peter…?"

The alpha lifted his eyes to see Chris standing there, the cross bow leveled at him. The man was a wreck, his hair was matted, face speckled with blood, shirt soaked with it, blood dripping from his right arm. Slowly, Peter stepped into the room, pushing the door shut with his hind paw.

The hunter was on him in a second, his arms wrapped around his neck, face buried in his black fur. He could hear Chris crying, something that he had only seen once or twice before. That was when he saw her. Victoria Argent was propped up against the wall, a huge bite wound to her shoulder and neck. The gashes were deep, jagged, like the thing had bit down and pulled away suddenly. Blood seeped from each gash, every so often more came out, rhythmically, in time with the fading heartbeat.

And Peter forced himself to shift back, to pull Chris into his arms and hug him tight, before he moved to Victoria. Fear sprang up in her eyes, and she seemed to want to move away from him. "Easy now Mrs. Argent. I'm not here to hurt you." There was not much he could do for her but… Peter glanced at Chris before he placed his hand on her shoulder, his veins turning black. The least he could do was take away some of her pain, no one deserved that, even if he did hate the woman.

"John and Alan are on their way," Peter said, his voice barely more than a growl. "Melissa will be here as well no doubt." He lifted his gaze looking at Chris. "Get her outside. I'll handle that thing."

Not a smart idea, not with his side aching already from the run, not that he had noticed with the amount of adrenaline running through his body.

Chris looked as if he was about to say something when something slammed against the door. Peter moved, placing himself between Chris and what he knew to be the rogue. The door splintered under its weight. It stared at Peter with bloody red eyes, teeth bared, blood dripping from its jaws.

"Come on then." Peter met its gaze, his claws extending. "I'm right here."

It charged, leaping towards him. Peter grabbed it, sinking his claws into the creature's neck as he used its momentum against it and threw them both out of the two-story window. There was a scream from someone outside. Peter twisted, forcing himself on top of the thing. He let go of its neck and pushed off landing back in his wolf form.

He turned to face it again, growling, his ears titled back. It took the rogue a moment to recover, but it did and soon it was staring at him again, growling. Peter turned and took off into the woods, hearing the rogue chase after him. He had to get it away from his pack.

It did not allow him to get very far. The wind was knocked from his lungs as the rogue threw its full weight on top of him, locking its jaws around the back of Peter's neck. His legs collapsed beneath him, pinning him to the ground. Peter twisted, growling, ignoring the burning pain in his neck trying to bite at the rogue.

Blood filled his mouth as he finally got a hold of its front leg and with as much effort as he could muster, yanked it from on top of him. It yelped, but got back to its feet and lashed out with its paw, striking Peter across the face.

This time, Peter went for its throat, managing to bite down, blood sliding down his throat. The rogue roared with pain, and clawed at him. Peter did not let go, had no intention of letting go, until it dragged its claws over his wounded side.

A howl of anguish tore itself from Peter as he released the rogue and stepped back a few feet. He lowered his head, ears tilted back, growling, bloodied fangs bared at it. It stared seeming ready to accept the challenge, to continue the fight, when it raised its head, howled, and disappeared back into the night.

Peter stood there, bleeding, panting for a moment making sure that it wasn't about to attack the second his back was turned, before he started to make his way back towards the Argent's house. His pack was there. It was where he belonged.

But it was slow going, each step was painful despite the fact that he knew his body was already starting to heal. By the time he stepped into the backyard, he was human again, his face bloodied, hair matted with blood, dirt, and god knows what else. His was dirty, clothes were ripped and bloody, covered in mud, but he was alive.

The first person to spot him was well actually it was Isaac, still all brown and adorable. The pup whined at him, nudging him with his nose. Peter gave him a half smile, reaching down to run his fingers through his fur. "I'm okay pup…"

He looked towards the rest of the group. Deaton, John, and Melissa had arrived. Of course Melissa would come too, she had been staying at John's house for the night and as a nurse figured she could help. She seemed to be doing a good job of that as she tended to Allison, making sure she was not injured too badly. John was on his radio, talking to probably the people back at the station. Alan was kneeling by Victoria, hopefully helping her.

There wasn't much anyone could do though.

Peter got to his feet, moving towards the rest of the group. He placed a hand on Laura's shoulder, watching as Melissa did her work. His niece hugged him cautiously and Peter put an arm around her shoulders, Isaac still by his side.

"It's about time you got back here." He did not even notice that he had been forced to sit in the spot where Allison had just been till he was face to face with Melissa. "What the hell were you thinking going after that thing by yourself?" She pressed a fresh cloth to his face, cleaning the claw marks.

Finally, Peter found Chris, standing off to the side, and their eyes met. A faint smile formed on Peter's lips. "I had to protect my pack. If it followed me then the others would be safe."

"Enough with the hero complex you'll get yourself killed." She swatted him with the cloth and Peter returned his gaze to her again. "Hey eyes here wolf boy."

"If I promise to sit still and let both you and Alan tend to my war wounds, can I go talk to someone just for a few minutes?" He could hear the sounds of the sirens, they were close.

She sighed and looked none too happy about agreeing, but she nodded. "I'm holding you too that. You start squirming and I will tie you down."

"Sorry love, not into that," he replied, smirking at her as he got to his feet. He made his way over to Chris. "Hey you okay?" Chris shook his head. "Do you…want to talk about it?" Again, Chris shook his head. "Okay enough with this strong silent type routine, was cute in high school not now." Peter put his arms around Chris, holding him close.

The hunter wrapped his arms around Chris, and pressed his face into his neck. Peter held him as a sob swept over Chris's body, he felt him tremble, felt the tears against his neck. He ran a hand over his back, and just held him.

The EMTs had arrived and started to work on Victoria. Chris pulled back enough to watch them place her on the stretcher and wheel her out of sight.

In the back of his mind, Peter knew that Chris, on some level, did care about his wife. It was because of that that Peter did not have the heart to tell him that they would never see each other again. That the reason Peter had tried to take away some of her pain, was because he could smell death on her.

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**Reviews are loved! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Look a new chapter! Yay a new chapter! Okay so I literally wrote the middle section like two times because I kept hating it. But I finished and here is the end result! Hope you like it.

**Warning, there is a description of a bad wound in this chapter. It's not as graphic as it could have been, but I am warning you all the same.**

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It was all a show. There was no need for the bandages on his face and neck; the wound on his side was really the only one that actually needed any kind of treatment. But for Melissa's sake he had been to the hospital, had gotten the bandages without any kind of fuss. From where he had been sitting, receiving the stitches, he watched the Argent family, watched as their lives went up in flames.

The doctor had just stood there, told them. Allison started crying, shouting, and beating her fists against her father's chest. Chris just stood there, staring, holding her close. His wife was dead; the mother of his child was dead. Their eyes met across the ER and Peter felt sick. There was anger in his eyes, anger, fear, and pain. So much pain it made his heart break.

It was not like this was his fault. Not everyone killed by a werewolf was related to someone from his pack. But Peter blamed himself, he did. He should have realized sooner that when the rogue had left it was going after someone, a specific target, his mate.

He had left the emergency room without so much as a second look at Chris. If the hunter wanted to see him, he'd call he'd do something. For now though, Peter would give him his space.

The ride back to the Hale house was uncomfortably silent, just him and John. Laura had taken Isaac back home, and Melissa had done the same with Scott.

"This is not your fault Peter," John finally spoke up glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye. The sun was rising, and Peter just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

"You keep telling yourself that."

"Peter how could you have possibly known that—"

"Because Chris is my mate John, that's why I should have known. I should have done something more to protect them." Peter snapped at him, his arms folded over his chest as he turned to look out the window again. "And all I could do was take away her pain."

"That's still something."

Silence fell between them again as John continued to drive, the air between them tense. When John pulled into the driveway, Peter nearly jumped out of the car before it had come to a complete stop. "Hey Peter."

He stopped, turning to look back at John. "Yes?"

"This wasn't your fault. None of it. The fire. What happened last night. It wasn't your fault."

Peter looked at him for a while, before he shrugged his shoulders and went towards the front steps. He opened the door and ran right into Stiles. Against his better judgment he flat out growled at the teen. Stiles stared at him with frightened eyes, muttering an apology as he dashed to his father's cruiser.

"Was that really necessary?" He looked up to see Melissa standing there, much to his surprise. He had figured she'd be home with Scott. Unless Allison had shown up and he was there with her... Peter shrugged, going upstairs. She was following him. "How are you healing?"

"Just fine Melissa," he snapped as he pulled open the door to his bedroom and went inside. The second he was in his room, he started taking the bandage of his face. He glanced at himself in the mirror; the marks were still there, but almost completely healed. "What are you still doing here?" He didn't turn to look at her; he didn't want to look at her.

His body stiffened as she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "Because I know you, and I know that you are being eaten alive by what happened…"

All of his friends knew it. Each one of them did because they had seen what the fire had done, how it had nearly burned out his soul to the point where he felt nothing, had wanted to feel nothing. It was his friends that had brought him back, even though what he had really needed was Chris, Chris to be there, for him to hold. To make the pain go away.

Peter turned and held Melissa in his arms. She was no Chris Argent, but she knew him almost as well as Chris did. He buried his nose in her curly dark hair, closing his eyes, doing his best to get his nerves to calm down. It wasn't working.

"Peter, you have a visitor." Laura called up the stairs to him.

"Send them away Laura," he barked back. She must have ignored him.

There were footsteps on the stairs, walking down the hall, and Peter groaned, pulling away from her and going to open the door to his room. "Who is it then?" He asked, fully expecting to see his niece standing there.

"Not too busy for me I hope?" Chris sounded tired he looked tired. His face fell when he saw Melissa standing behind him. Oh the horrible scenarios that must have been going through Chris's mind, and suddenly Peter was very glad that the hunter was not a mind reader. "Guess you are."

"No I was just leaving," Melissa said moving to push her way past the two of them. She stopped, and hugged Chris tight, before she left.

Peter turned and walked back into his room, taking a seat on his bed, his entire body still sore from the events of last night. "I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"Why would you think that?" A look of hurt took over his face, disbelief that Peter could possibly think such a thing.

"Well your wife is dead, and if I was a better alpha she'd probably still be alive." He paused. "A werewolf, but alive."

"No…she wouldn't be alive." Chris looked towards the ground, his hand resting on the bandage that covered his right arm. "When a hunter is bitten by a werewolf, if they survive the bite and turn. It's our code to…"

"To die," Peter finished for him, leaning forward, frowning. "Did it bite you?" No answer, but Peter didn't need one. He remembered the blood from that night, how Chris's arm had been injured. Damn it all the thing had bitten him. "Then why are you here Chris? You know I'll help you but you should be with your daughter right now."

"She's with Scott." So he had been right about that. No wonder Melissa had shown up inside his house. "I wanted to see you." Chris looked his away, a lost look on his eyes that were shining bright with tears. "I had to see you."

Peter was on his feet in an instant, pulling Chris into his arms. The hunter clung to him, his body starting to shake. It had always been Chris's worst fear, one that Peter knew regardless of the fact that Chris never admitted it. Chris always feared the bite of a werewolf, for a hunter it was a death sentence. He could remember Chris showing up at his house one night in high school, shaking, having just witnessed his father put a bullet in another hunter's head.

He bent his knees enough so he could put an arm under Chris's legs as he lifted him off the ground. Pain shot through his side, screaming in protest at the strain carrying the man over to the bed caused. Peter ignored it. There were more important things to worry about.

Carefully, he sat Chris down on the bed and went to get a damp cloth from the bathroom. It looked like Chris had not had a chance to go home, though there was a good chance he did not actually want to return home just yet. His face was still smeared with blood, hair matted with it, and his clothes were ripped. If Peter had had his way he would have turned on the shower and set Chris in it, clothes and all. A little voice in the back of his mind told him that that idea was a very bad one.

His eyes were fixed on the sink as he got the washcloth wet with warm water, a frown on his lips. The thoughts were returning, the dark thoughts, the ones that had trapped him within his own mind after the fire. It took all of his strength, it took the help of his friends to get him back out of there. But this time… This time he had no excuse. He should have gotten there sooner.

He leaned against the countertop, his eyes closed. He had let Victoria Argent die, just like his family. He was not strong enough, fast enough.

The room was spinning, he could smell smoke, hear the screams. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, his eyes shut tight. He couldn't breathe; it felt like someone had a hand around his throat. Peter shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It wasn't working nothing was working. He was falling again, trapped, about to be dragged back down into the darkness.

"Peter…"

His eyes snapped open. There was no smoke. There was no screaming. He could breathe. He glanced towards the entrance to the bathroom, towards where Chris was standing. The man's eyes were a mixture of so many different emotions that Peter had absolutely no clue what Chris was feeling.

But it had been him; it had been Chris's voice that pulled him back.

"Are you okay?"

Peter nodded, shutting the water off. "Course I am Chris." He smiled at him as he picked up the washcloth. "Now if you would be so kind as to take a seat."

Chris shook his head, probably not actually believing that Peter could be so formal and polite, but he did as he was told. The hunter sat down on the toilet, and Peter knelt down in front of him.

He looked into Chris's eyes as he started to gently wipe away the blood from his face, doing so slowly, carefully. And Chris just sat there, watching him with his sad blue eyes that made Peter's heart nearly break in two. There had been a time in their lives, when Chris never had a sad look in his eyes, but that was in the past, that time had gone. The years had made his eyes grow cold. The spark that used to light up his eyes came back every so often, but it was as rare as a blue moon.

His gaze moved the bandage around Chris's forearm, a gnawing anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach over the state of the wound. Either it would be healing and Chris was one of them, or it wasn't. If it wasn't one of two things were possible: Chris was immune, which was unlikely, or the infection that would normally turn a human would kill him.

Without having to be asked, Chris started to unravel it as Peter watched, holding his breath. "It got a hold of my arm while I was pushing Allison out of the way. When it got its jaws around my arm, I yanked away." And dear god it looked like that was exactly what had happened. The wound, which much to Peter's relief was starting to heal, had split the skin on Chris's forearm, cutting through the muscle and down to the bone. "Didn't hurt as much as I expected…" If it were not for the healing speed of werewolves, Chris would have had much worse and probably permanent damage.

It took a lot to cause that. Peter would know, he had the scar burned onto his back to prove it. "You're lucky it didn't take your arm…" Peter held his arm gently in his hands, examining it, just to be certain that it was healing and that wasn't just a trick of his imagination.

Bad idea on his part.

His eyes went red as the scent of Chris's blood filled his nose. His life force, one of the very things that made him him. Unique. Special. And it was going to drive him up a wall if he kept smelling it. Or well, something else would happen. Something he was not quite sure Chris in his current mental state would be able to handle.

"Why didn't they stitch this up Chris?" Peter asked, trying very, very hard not to rub his face near the wound. Or lick it. Seriously there were some instincts that his inner wolf had that made no sense and seemed disgusting. "Hell why didn't Melissa force you to hold still while she fixed you up?"

"A grieving husband…was easy enough to get alone time in the room." Chris shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like I want this getting back to my father, Peter."

Now that threw Peter for a loop. Or well no, it actually didn't, but it implied that Chris was not entirely fond of his father. Could he be that lucky?

"If he found out about this…My head would be on the ground in a matter of seconds." Chris was speaking again, and Peter listened as he set about getting out the disinfectant, gauze and an ace bandage to wrap it up all nice and tight. "And then Allison would be in his grasp…"

Peter knelt down in front of him, his supplies in hand. "You won't let that happen Chris. I know you." He set about cleaning the wound, not at all surprised when Chris did not make a sound while he cleaned it carefully. Super healing skills or not, a werewolf bite was not something to mess with. "It'll be our secret. We're good at hiding things from your family." There was a wicked grin on Peter's lips as he placed the gauze pad on top of the wound, and started to wrap it.

That earned him a soft chuckle from Chris, a sound that Peter was delighted to hear. The silence came a few moments later while Peter secured the bandage in place.

"Hey…Chris. You're not alone in this you know." He placed his hand on Chris's shoulder, meeting his mate's gaze. "You've got the pack, they'll all support you."

"And you?"

"What about me?" Peter asked as he straightened back up, holding his hand out to Chris.

Chris took it, and Peter pulled him to his feet. "Do I have you as well?"

The grin was back on Peter's lips as he led the way back out of the bathroom. "I thought that was implied when I said I love you." Peter rummaged through his drawers before pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants that should fit Chris. "Here. Get dressed in these. You need rest."

Without question, Chris took the clothes and vanished back into the bathroom. Peter couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he pulled back the blankets on the bed. After all this time, and Chris would still change in the bathroom.

He sat on the edge of the bed staring down at his hands, waiting for him to return. A million thoughts were running through his mind. The situation, his situation had turned more dangerous that he could have possibly imagined. The death of an Argent, the turning of an Argent, a series of murders in Beacon Hills? Oh there was no way that the hunters weren't on his packs radar. And then there was the wonderful rogue that he still had to deal with.

It wasn't until he felt the bed sink slightly that he came out of his minds endless rambling. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Chris who was wearing his clothes. The clothes were a bit big on him, but Chris was thinner than he was. Regardless, Peter thought he looked fantastic.

Okay so there had been another motive to him having Chris wear his clothes and sleep in his bed. Short of showering, it was the fastest way to get the rogue's scent off him, and his own on him.

Chris was quiet as he got into the bed, lying down so he could look at Peter. "You're…not going to leave, right?" He asked, a flicker of fear flashing across his eyes.

Peter leaned down as he covered Chris with the blanket. He kissed his forehead softly, smiling. "Course I'm not. You're stuck with me," he whispered as he lay down beside him, his arm resting across Chris's body. "I'll be right here when you fall asleep, and here when you open your eyes again."

And he did, he lay there on top of the blankets, his arm wrapped around Chris until the hunter was fast asleep. Then and only then, did he go to shower and get into clean clothes before he finally joined Chris in the bed.

It was the first time in a long while that Peter slept, and the fire did not haunt his dreams.

* * *

Hours later, Peter was dressed again, listening to the sounds of the shower running in the next room. He had woken up before Chris had, the sun was setting, painting the sky red. In the time the two of them had been together, Stiles had returned and some sort of take-out food had been delivered. His eyes were closed just listening.

The shower stopped, and a small smile formed on Peter's lips as he opened his eyes watching Chris, towel wrapped around his waist, enter the room again. The hunter's gaze softened upon seeing him. "Do you mind if I…"

"Go naked? No I don't mind, but the rest of the pack might." Chris shot him a look and Peter laughed. "Go ahead, what's mine is yours."

So he watched as Chris started to get dressed, but when his eyes fell on his right arm, he was on his feet holding it in his hands. The wound was nearly healed. Chris was one of his kind now. A werewolf. "Wish it had been you…" Chris said softly looking down towards his arm. "It should have been you to…"

"No you don't, but it's the thought that counts." Peter shook his head, and pulled a shirt from his drawer. "I wouldn't have turned you unless I had no other option." He looked at the shirt in his hands and held it out. "Here, wear this. Smells like there's food downstairs."

Their fingers brushed as Chris took the shirt from his hands pulling it on. "Your face is healing nicely…" Chris said as if to completely distract Peter from the subject of the bite. It wouldn't have worked, but Chris lifted his fingers to Peter's face, brushing against what remained of the claw marks. "You didn't have to do that for me."

"Yes I did. You'll realize that one day Chris," Peter replied taking his hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He wanted to tell the pack, wanted the world to know about them but it was not the right time. Hell it had barely been twenty-four hours since the death of Victoria Argent. "Let's go."

Peter held his hand as they made their way to the top of the stairs, and he only let go of his hand when they were finally within eyesight of the others. From the sounds of it, they were in the kitchen. And there was an extra heartbeat.

"And how was everyone's night?" Peter asked as he walked into the kitchen, flat out ignoring the looks from Derek and Laura. Isaac glanced at him tired eyes; must have been from the time he spent as a brown ball of energetic fluff. Stiles was back, and so was another girl, one he knew only by reputation. "Miss Lydia Martin I presume?"

Ah the situation with Lydia was a unique one. Peter knew what exactly she was when he first passed her on the streets a couple of months ago. He had never met someone who was immune before, or no, that wasn't entirely true. There was one other person he knew. One of his friends growing up. They had a similar scent about them. They weren't related except for the fact that a bite from Peter would not turn Lydia, nor would it turn Alan.

Lydia gave him a smile, and turned back to talking to Stiles about something. Polite girl, really, he could totally see why Stiles had thought he was in love with her. He didn't mind Lydia being there. She actually guessed what they were, and asked Stiles about it. That's how Peter had found out she knew.

And Laura seemed to like having another girl around from time to time so he couldn't really complain.

"What's for lunch?" Peter asked though he snagged the box of fried rice off the table. "See anything you want Chris?"

All eyes turned to Chris who was leaning against the doorframe, a small smile on his lips. "Ah…I'm fine thanks. Will eat with Allison later."

"You should eat more," Peter replied before eating a fork full of the rice. "You'll need your strength."

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm fine Peter. I have to head home, should be there when Allison gets home."

Peter set the food down going over to Chris. "I'll walk you to the door then, least pretend to be a gentleman." He heard Derek snort behind him as the two of them walked towards the door. Out of sight of the others, Peter placed his hand on Chris's upper arm. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"No. I'm not sure," Chris said softly, his eyes moving towards the ground.

"Hey…" Peter tilted his chin up with his fingers looking into his eyes. "Don't you dare go back to being all quiet and strong Chris. Not now. Not with me." He moved his hand to rest against Chris's cheek, smiling at him. "You're stuck with me Argent."

For a moment, Chris said nothing, did nothing, he just stared at Peter. Then, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the hunter leaned forward brushing their lips together. "I wouldn't have it any other way Peter." A smile had taken shape on Chris's lips, a sad smile, but it was an improvement. Chris turned to leave, stopping at the door to look back over his shoulder. "I'll call you. Yeah?"

"You better," Peter chuckled folding his arms over his chest. "If you don't I'll have to come and find you."

"Such an innocent threat…" With that Chris left, closing the door with a click.

Peter stayed in the hall for a while, a faint smile on his lips enjoying the moment before reality hit. His pack was sitting barely two rooms away and probably would have heard everything that had went on just now. Peter groaned, running a hand through his hair, wincing as pain shot through his side as he made his way back into the kitchen, where everyone was staring at him.

"What?" No one spoke. "Seriously you lot, what? Cat got your tongue?" Again, nothing. "Oh come on now this is insane, tell me what's on your minds." That earned him a barrage of questions from everyone except Lydia who was just watching with an amused smile on her face. "One at a time for god sake." Peter held up his hands in a defensive position.

They quieted down. "There now. Who would like to go first?" Stiles's hand shot into the air, not that Peter was surprised. He figured that Isaac or Stiles would be the first one to ask a question. "Yes Mr. Stilinski?" He was beginning to remember why he never ever wanted to become a schoolteacher.

"What happened last night?" Right, he and Derek had been confined to the house.

"The rogue attacked the Argent house." He paused leaning against the counter. "It scared the hell out of Allison, it bit Chris, and it killed Victoria."

Stiles's hand was up in the air again, and Peter nodded at him. "Are you okay?"

A smile flashed across his face and Peter nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright kid. Or well I will be. These lovely claw marks and the bite wound should be healed by tomorrow. My side however…" The sudden realization that the events of a few hours ago could have probably tore open his stitches, and the reactions that would earn him from Melissa and Deaton. "Ah…that'll take a bit more work."

And he thought it was over, everyone seemed satisfied. Then Lydia raised her hand. "Why was Mr. Argent here?"

God fucking damn it all to hell he did not want to have this conversation with them. "That's personal…" Laura and Derek stared at him like he had just sprouted six heads. "Okay fine it's personal but my darling niece and nephew." Isaac was blushing. "And my dear pup Isaac seem to have figured it out. You can ask them."

She was about to open her mouth to ask something else when there was a knock at the door. "That must be Jackson, time to go." Lydia hugged Stiles, and got up from her seat going to the front door.

Something didn't feel right. Peter could not place it but something off, there was a scent he recognized but had no idea where from. When Stiles stood up to escort Lydia to the door, Peter followed them. Jackson was standing there on the front steps, grinning at Lydia. The second the teen's eyes fell on Peter, his expression darkened, a mixture of fear and awe. And that was when Peter realized what was bothering him.

That night, there had been another in the woods, he had smelled them, but at the time it did not seem like a big deal. He recognized the scent now as the captain of the lacrosse team standing in front of him.

"Jackson this is Peter Hale," Lydia was saying as Peter just continued to stare at him.

The smirk that formed on Jackson's lips made Peter's blood run cold as he held out a hand for Jackson to shake. "Pleasure," Peter forced out, a fake smile on his lips.

Stiles and Lydia were walking to the car, Stiles being ever the gentleman towards his best friend and/or his long time crush.

Jackson ignored his hand. "I know what you are."

Peter's heart was pounding in his chest. He did not like where this was going one bit. "And what is that?"

"A werewolf. And I want what you have."

"Doesn't mean a thing to me. Sorry you have the wrong Hale family." Peter turned to go back inside, a knot growing in the pit of his stomach.

"No, I think I do. I was there last night. I saw you."

He snorted, turning to face Jackson, one hand resting on his hip. "Oh sweetheart I don't know what you've been smoking but you need to stop. There's no such thing as werewolves."

The kid was growing agitated, his heart starting to race. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. I know you do." Jackson took a step towards him. As if that would actually make Peter feel threatened. "I want what you have. I want to be one."

"No you really don't. It ain't all that cracked up actually, you got a lot of weird urges and strange instincts." Peter was eyeing him, his caution growing by the second. "And besides, you wouldn't fit in with my pack, assuming I am what you think I am."

"If I don't get what I want. I'll tell the whole town. And you'll burn."

Peter shut his eyes tight. Oh he could see the headlines: 'Kate Argent Announced as Monster Slayer, Real Identity of the Hale Family.' But he did not want to turn the brat, not at all. It was the threat that gave him pause; the thought of being burned alive scared him. It was what haunted his dreams each night.

"Give me till the end of the weekend to make my decision. Sunday night return here at 8 PM," Peter muttered under his breath, before he slammed the door in Jackson's face.

Everything had been going so right, and now it had come back to bite him. Of course he wouldn't be lucky to have anything in his life actually run smoothly. Oh no not at all.

He had to talk to Alan; he'd know what to do.

* * *

**Reviews are loved!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note**: Here's the next chapter my dear readers! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

The deadline he had set for Jackson had come and passed with no sign of the brat with the big ego. Not that Peter complained about it, there was just an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach that something had happened. Jackson had seemed pretty determined about receiving the bite, which upon discussion with Alan, Peter had decided to give in. It was the best way to protect the pack, and he'd be damn sure that Jackson would know his place. But the kid never showed.

So it was time for him to investigate. It had not taken long for him to find out what had happened. An accident, they were calling it. An animal mauling. Peter found himself at the hospital again, second time in a week. He looked through the window of the room. Jackson's parents were there, as was Lydia. Jackson lay motionless in the bed, his body covered in various bandages. It wasn't an animal attack. It had been the rogue.

A sigh fell off of Peter's lips as he turned to get back onto the elevator, when someone caught hold of his arm. He glanced towards the person and smiled at his niece. "Hey kid, what's up?"

"There's a couple of people I want you to meet," Laura replied leading him towards another room. She stopped just outside the door. "Uncle please just listen to him, he's desperate and he has no other options." Peter raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Do this for me at least, you were going to bring a new member into our pack anyways."

That got Peter's attention, and he followed her into the room, his curiosity growing by the second. Okay if he had a say in who he would have turned his first choice would have been John or Melissa. He had offered it to both of them at one time or another, and they had both turned him down. Granted they had added that if it was a life or death sort of thing he had their full permission.

The second he set foot into the room, he could tell exactly why Laura wanted him in here. The sound of a heart monitor, a breathing pump, and a faint, weak heartbeat reached his ears. The smell of cancer, of death was everywhere, almost enough to overpower his sense of smell. His eyes fell on the man sitting by the bed, holding the hand of a young blonde girl. The teenager was hooked up to all the machines; her eyes were closed. Her skin was ghostly white, and she was thinner than anyone Peter had met before.

The girl was going to die.

"Mr. Reyes?"

The man looked up at them, his eyes completely devoid of emotion, of life. They were the eyes of someone who had just plain given up on having hope. Oh hell if this man was willing to let his daughter become a member of his pack…

"Yes?" His voice was hoarse, cheeks stained with tears. There was something familiar about him, or his last name at least, something that Peter couldn't place.

"This is my uncle, Peter Hale." Laura moved to sit on the edge of the girl's bed, placing her hand on Mr. Reyes's shoulder. "Remember what I told you, about something that could save your daughter?" The man nodded. "He can help." She looked over at Peter, then back to Mr. Reyes. "I have to get back to my shift, but Peter can explain everything."

Laura stood up again, and made her way out of the room, pausing only to cast Peter a look, a pleading look. Nope there was no way he would refuse to help the girl, only if her father did not want him to.

When he heard the door click shut, Peter moved to stand on the other side of the girl's bed, looking down at her. "What's her name?" He let his hand brush against her forehead, brushing back the blonde hair from her face. She was a true sleeping beauty.

"Erica."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Brain cancer. The. The doctor's they…" He couldn't get the words out, but Peter did not have to hear what he was going to say to know the answer. She was going to die. "Laura…she's your niece?"

Peter nodded, pulling up a chair to the bedside, taking a seat.

"She said you can help?"

"I can."

"How? What…what could you possibly do that the doctors can't?" He was speaking like a man afraid to have hope that some new miracle could save his little girl. The man must have felt completely powerless, which had killed what little hope he had had that someone would come along and save Erica.

Peter could understand the feeling, he had been there himself, felt that same feeling the night his sister, Lauren, had drowned. They had been playing hide and seek with Kate Argent who, at the time, had been Lauren's friend. The two girls had been hiding, while Peter counted. He went to find them and found Lauren face down in the stream in the woods, Kate standing there. He couldn't do anything, nothing he did got his little sister to wake up. She was dead, and there was nothing he could do. Peter had been seven years old at the time.

"Do you believe in the supernatural? In werewolves to be more specific," Peter asked, forcing thoughts of his younger sister into the back of his mind. Mr. Reyes shook his head and Peter chuckled softly. "They are real." As he spoke his eyes turned red, his claws extending.

Mr. Reyes pushed his chair back a few inches, his eyes going wide. "You…what…"

"Let me explain. Werewolves have enhanced healing capabilities. Not much can actually do us physical harm. We rarely get sick, and we rarely die from human diseases because we are not human." His eyes turned back to Erica. "I am an alpha, the head of a pack. One bite from me and your daughter could live. If she survives the bite that is, or it could kill her." He turned to look back at the man who's heart was racing so fast Peter was half wondering if he should go contact a nurse about the man.

"She could live…" Mr. Reyes looked back to his daughter. "What…would she be a part of your pack?"

"Yes."

"Would I still be able to see her?" he asked, holding her hand, looking at her face.

"Yes."

"Then do it."

"You do understand that this could kill her as much as it could heal her, right?" Peter just wanted to make sure, but he could feel his inner wolf stirring, eager to get the deed done.

"If it doesn't work…she's dead anyways Mr. Hale." Mr. Reyes met Peter's gaze at long last, the flicker of hope, just a spark, had returned to his eyes. "Might as well try."

"That's the spirit."

Peter pushed up the sleeve on the girl's hospital gown, exposing her upper arm. He closed his eyes, letting himself shift just enough so that his teeth would change. When he opened his eyes, they were red again, his canines elongated. He leaned down, and paused. "Look away Mr. Reyes, you don't need to see this."

And he waited until the man had looked away before he sank his teeth into her arm, infecting her, and hopefully turning her. The taste of blood filled his mouth, made his heart beat faster, harder, awakening his inner wolf. It made him crave for more. Peter pulled back, blood around his mouth. He wiped at it with the back of his hand, putting the sleeve back in place. "I'll have Laura check in on her, keep me updated." Peter looked at Mr. Reyes. "When she wakes up, Laura will be here to explain everything to her." He turned to go.

"Wait." Mr. Reyes caught hold of Peter's arm. "Thank you…What can I possibly do to repay you?"

"Keep her safe. And keep my secret." Then he left, his hands in his pockets, and walked out of the hospital. Only once he spotted Laura, who was talking with Melissa. She had glanced his way, and Peter had nodded. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. But Peter had other things to worry about, things that could prove more damaging to the pack.

Like the death of Victoria for instance.

It had been just over a week since the night of the full moon. It had been the slowest week of Peter's life. Deaton had forced bed rest upon him, which Laura took very seriously, making sure he had not left his bed until the wound on his side, face, and back of his neck were completely healed. Chris had been by his side every single day. That was the only good part.

Chris would ask him questions, and Peter would do his best to answer them in a completely unbiased way. Once or twice when Chris had been there, John, Melissa, Alan, or some combination of all of them were there as well. It was nice, it made him smile and remember what fun they had had in high school. That still didn't mean he wasn't pissed at Alan for the bed rest. The wounds would have healed fine on their own, there was no reason that he should have been confined to a bed.

The last day of his imprisonment to the comfortable fortress that is his bed, Chris had told him the date for the funeral had been set. He asked Peter to be there, had wanted him there. There was only one way that was going to work, and thankfully the rest of their gang had agreed to go as well.

What had surprised him about the entire situation was the fact that since the full moon, Allison had been spending more time with Scott who upon very stern instruction from his mother, was at the Hale house most afternoons. In short, where Scott went, Allison was sure to follow. Of course she had figured out what they were, and there was a completely dead look in her eyes whenever she looked at Peter, but…he couldn't exactly argue; it wouldn't have made Chris very happy, and his dear hunter had more than enough to deal with.

So when Peter had left the hospital, he got on his motorcycle and drove to the Argent house with every intention of seeing Chris. The funeral was set for the next day, and something told him that Chris was going to need saving from all the visitors who kept showing up. That or the vultures that call themselves reporters.

Thankfully, there was no one there when Peter pulled up into the driveway. He took his helmet off, parked his bike, and steadied it on the kickstand. Helmet tucked under his arm he walked up the steps, in broad daylight, what a change that was. It almost felt strange. He knocked, and a smile lit up his face when Chris opened the door.

"Feels weird being able to come here in daylight, I almost went around back and knocked on your bedroom window." Chris laughed at him and stepped aside to let Peter in. He set the helmet down, waiting for the sound of the door closing.

The second it was, Peter turned and wrapped his arms around Chris, brushing their lips together. So he was feeling a tad bit possessive and protective, that wasn't a crime. He would have done more, would have deepened the kiss and made it last, but he could hear the sound of Allison's heart beat from upstairs.

"How are you holding up?" Peter asked, looking at him, studying him.

"As well as can be expected," Chris mumbled, letting his forehead rest on Peter's shoulder. "Better…with you here."

Peter turned his head enough to press a kiss to Chris's hair. "Well if you're doing better with just me here, you'll be feeling right as rain in few minutes."

Chris pulled back staring at Peter with confused eyes, and Peter could only grin. "You didn't…"

"Scott's coming to pick up Allison. John's getting pizza from that place in town we used to go to. Melissa is gonna pick up Alan once she gets off work."

"Peter…"

"Don't you Peter me. Yes your wife's funeral is tomorrow. Be sad tomorrow. Spend tonight with us. Let us give you something happy to hold on to tomorrow while you have to play the part of the grieving husband." Peter unzipped his coat, turning to hang it up in the closet. "For now, how about you and me do something we haven't done since elementary school?"

There was a moment where Chris said nothing while Peter made his way towards the kitchen. It was easy enough to find the prize, a gallon of cookie dough ice cream in the freezer. It was still Chris's favorite, it always had been. And when they were in elementary school, they'd make a game of who could get the ice cream out of the freezer without their parents (or in Peter's case his brother) seeing.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea…"

"That's the point Chris." Peter flashed him a smile as he pulled two spoons out from the drawer. "Now are you going to help me eat this or am I going to have to eat it all by myself."

Chris shook his head but took one of the spoons from Peter. He watched as Chris got a spoonful of the ice cream, and ate it. His features softened, his eyes closed as the man savored the taste. It started out with them eating in silence. It ended shortly after Peter had flicked a glob of ice cream at Chris, to which Chris sprayed him with water from the sink after he wiped up the ice cream. It had been fun, calm, and familiar, something that Peter was certain Chris needed.

During the time the two of them had been feasting on the deliciousness that is cookie dough ice cream, Allison had left with Scott. The door rang and Peter nearly started to drool as the smell of the pizza drifted to his nose. The combination of the sauce, spices, cheese and the various toppings that they had all finally settled on years ago was enough to make his stomach rumble. Even after he and Chris had just polished off half a gallon of cookie dough ice cream.

John walked into the kitchen grinning as he set the large pizza on the counter. "One large pizza with red sauce, extra cheese, one quarter with all the meat toppings, onion and garlic in another, plain and one with pepperoni." John grinned at the two of them. "Would you believe me if I told you they remembered us?"

"Well how could we not? We had the most complicated order they have probably ever had," Peter replied fighting the urge to tear into the pizza and just devour it. If he did that there probably wouldn't be any left for the rest of them, as he knew from experience. It had happened more than once. It was their own fault really; they left a hungry werewolf with a box of pizza.

Chris was just smiling, shaking his head as he went over to the fridge and pulled out five glass bottles of cola. "No way, I thought they stopped making this stuff," John said taking one of the bottles of cola from Chris.

"They started making it again," Chris handed a bottle of the homemade cola to Peter, smiling slightly at him. "You are just lucky I didn't drink it all."

"Hope you guys didn't start having fun without us." Peter turned to watch as Alan and Melissa walked into the room, both of them still in their scrubs from their respective jobs. Melissa stopped and looked at Peter. "Erica Reyes woke up. The doctors are amazed, she's going to make a full recovery."

"You don't say." Peter grinned taking a drink from his bottle. "Glad to hear it."

"Peter you didn't."

"Well I'd prefer to save a life by turning someone than turn someone because I'm being blackmailed." Peter wrinkled his nose. He couldn't lie, he was happy that in his current state Jackson could not spread the rumor that the Hale family were a bunch of monsters. "She'll live, and she'll make a good addition to the pack."

"You're not supposed to turn children Peter." And there was the disapproving voice from Alan.

"Hey you're the one who told me to turn that Whittmore kid. He would have been a horrible pack member. At least this girl is going to live." Peter leaned back against the counter, looking at Alan. "And besides. The rule is I can't kill a kid. She lived. The code wasn't broken. I'm safe."

John and Chris were staring at him.

"I bit Erica Reyes, a girl who was dying of a brain tumor, to save her life. I had her father's permission." Silence. "Oh come on it was a moment of weakness and I couldn't let the girl die."

"Ah Mr. Hale always playing the white knight." Alan picked up a piece of the cheese pizza. "Well if no one else is going to start I am."

It was a free for all. Each of them dove in and grabbed the pieces they wanted. Peter got several of the meat lover's section, Chris took one cheese and two of the onion and garlic section. Melissa had the pepperoni slices, and John and Alan had one of each. They were adults and still could polish off the large pizza between just the five of them.

They had moved from the kitchen out onto the back deck, each of them taking a different seat. Or at least that had been the plan until every time Peter tried to sit somewhere, Melissa would appear just before he could sit. Sneaky devil. The only place she didn't try to stop him, was when he sat down next to Chris on a bench by the patio table. "Seems Miss Melissa is playing match maker again Chris."

"It would appear so." Chris was smiling and it made Peter's heart soar.

"Oh come on you two it's not like you have been sneaky about it." Melissa grinned at them before taking a bite of her pizza. "The last time I was over your house Peter, the two of you were fast asleep in bed together."

"So?"

"Chris was curled up against you and you were holding him quite protectively."

From the corner of his eye, he could see a blush form on Chris's cheeks, something he had not seen in years. "So? I heard you and John speaking so very quietly to each other and standing intimately close to one another." Two could play the embarrassment game.

That shut Melissa up. She managed to take a large bite of pizza avoiding Peter's gaze. Alan was looking at the four of them like they were completely insane, and then his eyes landed on Chris. Peter followed his gaze to Chris's bare right arm, where no scar from the bite remained.

"Is there something you'd like to know Alan?" Chris asked, having set his empty plate down on the ground. The man had gone tense, his body shaking slightly. Peter slipped his arm around his waist, trying his best to make the man feel more secure than he was feeling at that current moment in time.

"Welcome to the pack Chris." The hunter looked at Alan confused. "There's no coincidence that Peter and I grew up together as friends. Each pack, each alpha has a guide assigned to them. They are fated to meet as children. My family was assigned to the Hale family." Alan smiled. "I'm Peter's guide."

John and Melissa were staring at Alan, looking just as confused as Chris did. "Alan is a shaman. His father was my brother's guide." Peter tightened his hold on Chris just a bit. "He was there the night of the fire…"

"He was killed the night of the fire," Alan added. They fell silent.

It was Melissa who spoke up first. "Alan…you have no kids. Who's the next guide then?"

"Not just one Melissa, not this time." Alan met Peter's eyes. "Because there are two who have shown the abilities required. Lydia Martin, a girl who is immune to the supernatural, a skill many guides have. And," Alan paused and looked to John. "Your son. You may not know it yet John, nor you Peter. Stiles is connected to the supernatural, he is gifted and would be able to learn my trade. With your permission. I want to begin to teach him."

"Can't really say no can I?"

"Nope not really."

And there it was, everything was out in the air. The blackmail, the new pack member, Alan's identity, and Chris's bite. There were no secrets between them. In that moment they were as close as they had been in high school, the five of them best friends. Nothing could change that. Nothing would change that if Peter had his way.

* * *

The following day was overcast, a mist hanging in the air, cooling the area down. Peter had thought he'd be able to handle going to the graveyard in Beacon Hills, he had been certain that he'd be able to. He had managed to make it through the entire funeral only because he had been by Chris's side, only because he had held his hand the entire time. But the second they started to lower the casket into the ground it was too much.

Peter had stood up and left, going to another part of the graveyard, he didn't care if anyone was staring at him. There stood the gray stone mausoleum, the name Hale etched above the door. A pair of wolves guarded the entrance to the tomb, where his entire family was. Derek and Laura never went there, hadn't since the day of the funeral.

He could remember being there in a wheelchair, still too weak to stand, watching as body after body was brought into the Hale family crypt.

He took a breath and pulled the key from his pocket, unlocking the door and going down into the damp musty darkness. He had gotten all dressed up for his family's funeral, and he was in the same outfit again for Victoria's. His fingers brushed across the names of his family: His mother and father, Daniel, Lauren, Daniel's wife Kathleen, his cousins Tessa and Annette, their mother and father. Everyone. Lauren was the youngest; Tessa and Annette had only been a few years older than her when they died in the fire. Most of them were victims of the fire. Of the massacre at the hands of Kate Argent.

He placed his palms against the headstones of Daniel and Kathleen Hale. "I will keep them safe," he whispered, pressing his forehead to the cool stone. "I promise you both I will keep Derek and Laura safe…"

"Hey Peter."

He turned to look at Chris, standing in his Sunday best at the entrance, a frown on his lips. He didn't want to go inside, that was written on his face. But to Peter's surprise, Chris slowly made his way down the stone steps and over to him. "You shouldn't be here Chris. You should be out there, at your wife's funeral."

"If anyone asks…" Chris placed his hand on Peter's shoulder and smiled. "My best friend ran away from the funeral in tears, I came to find him." He chuckled softly. "Besides I'm supposed to be the one having a hard time controlling myself, not you."

Peter chuckled softly and started to head back out into the graveyard. "Guess we better head back then?" He turned to look back at Chris, and froze. Chris's eyes had changed, but while he had expected to see gold or blue, they shown pure silver. Peter's breath caught in his throat, never before had he seen a wolf with eyes like that. They were stunning. He held out his hand and smiled softly. "Come on you let's go."

Chris took his hand, his eyes fading back to normal. The stress combined with seeing the damage his sister had caused to Peter's family, it must have sent him over the edge.

Peter shut the door and locked it behind them, pocketing the key again. They walked hand in hand back towards the funeral, only separating when they were finally within sight of the guests.

A scent carried on the breeze met Peter's nose and he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide. His body started to shake slightly. "I have to go Chris…" Chris looked back at him frowning. "I'll call you later." And Peter was off, making his way into the forest, deep enough in before he shifted and ran back to the Hale house.

He leapt onto the deck of the house, human again and went inside locking the door.

Derek was in the kitchen with Stiles and Isaac. The smell of brownies reached his nose. The two must have been baking or something. One of them asked him what was wrong, but he couldn't answer, couldn't think. It was getting hard to breathe again. He sank to the ground, staring, trying to regain control.

His worst nightmare was coming true. If he had been right, if the scent had been correct. Then Gerard Argent was back in town.

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**BWAUAHAHAHAHAHA! Yes I did end it there.**

**Reviews are loved!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:  
**Here's the next chapter! Hope you like it. And Happy Thanksgiving!

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_It was dark in the hospital room, but Peter could hear them, hear the people just outside the room whispering about what had happened. The fire at the Hale house, the death of almost an entire extended family was news, big news, and the fact that the police believed Kate Argent to be the murderer? Oh the town was in a frenzy. The news had spread like wildfire so to speak. John was fighting off the reporters, staying just outside the room that he and Chris were in._

_Peter was tired, so very tired, the process of healing his body was taking away his strength by the minute, but he had to stay awake. He wanted to be there when Chris woke up. The doctor's had cleaned him up and set his wrist and ankle both of which had broken. There were minor burns to his hands, but nothing that wouldn't heal. A bandage was wrapped around his head; the doctors said that it could have been a lot worse. Chris had been lucky._

"_So you're the mongrol that has my son running about like a love sick fool." The voice sent a chill down Peter's spine as he looked up and met the ice cold gaze of Chris's father, Gerard Argent. "You're the one who killed my daughter."_

"_I had every right to," Peter replied standing up, his body yelling at him not to, his burns and broken bones protesting. "She murdered my family. Children, innocents, humans. She broke your code and I had every right to take her life."_

"_That may be," Gerard said moving to stand close to Peter, close enough that he was able to see the glint of a silver blade. "But there's just one other thing we need to discuss Mr. Hale."_

"_And what's that?" His body was tense, his heart racing, his flight or fight instincts starting to kick in, and he wasn't about to go down like this. If it came down to it, well, he could live with having killed two hunters._

"_My son." Gerard looked towards Chris's unconscious form before he returned his gaze to Peter. "I will make this simple Mr. Hale. I don't want you near him. Your relationship is nothing but a phase." Gerard pulled the knife from his belt as he moved to the other side of the bed, and let the blade rest on Chris's shoulder. "If you come near him again, I will kill him." Peter's eyes widened as the blade moved to Chris's neck. "And you'll watch as he dies, you'll watch as the life drains from his eyes."_

It had been two weeks since the funeral, and so much had changed. Peter had taken to meeting Chris whenever was possible at random locations throughout Beacon Hills to exchange notes. It wasn't worth the risk meeting face to face for a long period of time. Or at least Peter didn't think it was. Chris had kept asking him what was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to tell him the real reason why he was avoiding him.

Some how saying 'oh sorry love but your father threatened to kill you if I came near you again, but if he finds out you're a werewolf then we're all screwed anyways,' did not seem like the best way to inform Chris of their current predicament.

And besides, Peter had more things to deal with. Like the newest member of his pack. As he had thought, Erica fit right in. She was not used to being healthy, that much was clear, and she walked around with her head held high. She was fearless, and always willing to try and learn new things, everything she could about being a werewolf. It impressed Peter, impressed him greatly. Best of all? She instantly bonded with Isaac. He was glad that now Isaac had someone he could hang with besides Laura, since after all when Laura was at work half the time Isaac was either alone in his room, or following Peter around like a puppy.

Not that Peter minded. He loved Isaac's company.

Stiles had started working with Deaton on all things mystical and shaman, and it was amusing Peter greatly. Derek was on the receiving end of most of his experiments into the world of shamanism. Not that Derek seemed to care since it meant he got to spend time with Stiles. And that wasn't the only big change for the two of them, not in the least.

The only reason Peter knew that their relationship had changed, and grown to something more than friendship was because Laura had taken a picture of the two of them. He could remember it, Laura shrieking and running away from Derek who was chasing after her trying to get the photo back. Unfortunately for Derek, Peter had gotten it first. He had looked at it, smiled, and given it back to Derek. The image of a first kiss was something that his nephew should keep.

Things had settled into a comfortable routine, the pups would go to school and then almost all of them would return home either right after school or after lacrosse. Lydia went to the hospital most days, since Jackson had eventually woken up, but was yet to be released, his wounds weren't healing right. That shouldn't have made Peter happy, but it did.

That day, having finally decided that he could not live on pop-tarts, toast, and coffee for another day longer, he had gone to the grocery store with Isaac. It should have been an easy trip, should have been, but he had made the mistake of bringing Isaac. So while the cart might have originally had somewhat healthy choices, there was also an abundance of chips and cookies, everything that Isaac had insisted that he and his friends would need when they would hang out. Seriously, Peter was astounded at the amount of food that was suddenly in the cart. Then again, it had been three weeks since he had last done the shopping.

And the full moon was coming up, everyone was eating twice as much as normal.

Peter turned the corner, eyes fixed on Isaac who had run ahead of him to look at the cereal boxes and nearly jumped out of his skin as his cart collided with another. "I'm sorry I wasn't watching where I was…" He looked up at the person and froze.

Gerard stared back at him, his face emotionless, cold. "Mr. Hale. It has been along time. I assume you are behaving?"

"Of course I am," Peter replied as civially as he could manage as he steered his cart around Gerard's. "Just out shopping for food for my family." He wanted to get close to Isaac, had to get close to Isaac. There was no way he was letting Gerard get near his pup.

"You mean your hoard of brats? Not exactly a family Peter."

Peter focused on looking for cereal with Isaac, who had glanced curiously towards the hunter.

"I do assume you haven't been near my son?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I was. You can thank me later for that."

"What the hell are you on about."

"Went near him twice actually, saved his life and his daughter's both times. Tried to save Victoria but wouldn't you know it I was too slow," Peter replied, putting a box of Cheerios into the cart along side the box of Frosted Flakes Isaac had picked out. "So I did not break your deal. Had I not been there your son and granddaughter would both be dead."

"You know the cost Peter Hale. You know what will happen if I catch you two together." And that was when Gerard noticed Isaac. "He's a bit young Peter, honestly I thought you had better taste than that."

It was taking every ounce of Peter's strength not to throttle Gerard Argent right then and there. He searched his brain for a reasonable response, one that Gerard might believe. "He's my son. You come near him, and you'll wish that I had died in the fire." There was a growl in his voice. He placed his hand on Isaac's shoulder and led him towards the cash registers.

They paid for the food and packed up the car all the while Peter said nothing. His eyes were fixed straight ahead. Gerard was there, Gerard was back in Beacon Hills. Oh his life could not possibly get any more complicated than it already was.

He started the drive home.

"Who was that?" Isaac asked a worried frown on his lips.

"Gerard Argent. A hunter and a very dangerous one at that," Peter answered, his hands gripping the steering wheel. "I don't want you to go near him Isaac. Stay away from him and from Allison."

"But Scott…"

"If Scott is too big of an idiot to see the danger then he deserves what he gets," he snapped. There was no reasoning with him right then, his anger had reached a boiling point.

Isaac fell silent but only for a second. "You called me your son…"

All the anger melted out of his body in that instant as he glanced towards Isaac. "I'm your legal guardian Isaac," he said softly. "And…I do consider you to be my son, one of my pups who I would do anything for." Peter paused for a moment. "You don't mind that I called you that, do you?"

Isaac shook his head, seeming satisfied with that answer as they pulled into the driveway of the Hale house. "Unload the car. I need to go run off this excess energy," he said and Isaac nodded going about unloading the car.

Peter was in his wolf form in the next instant, off running through the woods, his paws crunching against the freshly fallen leaves. Fall was almost over and winter was nearly upon them. The trees were bare, looking like skeletons against the gray afternoon sky. A familiar scent on the wind caught his attention and he followed it to the large rock by the stream, where Chris stood.

A smile formed on the hunter's lips. "You couldn't avoid me forever Peter. Come on, shift back, tell me what's going on."

Peter did shift back, but shook his head. "I can't do it Chris."

"Why? What can't you tell me?"

"I can't be seen with you."

"What? You're serious? Are you breaking up with me again Peter Hale?"

"No, no I'm not I just can't-"

"Tell me the truth."

As Chris's eyes turned silver, Peter stopped and nodded. "Fine, just calm down…your eyes Chris…" Chris ignored him. "Look, the first time I left you it was because someone threatened me, told me if I went near you again, they'd kill you, make me watch. I couldn't let that happen."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying."

Again, he found himself hating the fact that Chris was able to read him so well. "Would you believe me if I said, if I told you, you'd be in more danger than you are in right now?" Chris tilted his head, frowning. "Look your father is a very skilled hunter Chris, you're in danger. If anything you need to get out of that house."

"Don't you change the subject Peter Hale," Chris warned him.

"I'm not. Someone wants to kill you. If they succeed I don't…I don't know what I'll do…" Peter looked towards the ground, hoping that Chris would understand. "If you're father finds out what you are…"

"I'm as good as dead I know."

And Peter put his arms around him, buried his face in his neck and just clung to Chris. He could not lose him, he couldn't. It would destroy what little was left of his humanity. If Chris died, his human side would be burnt out. He couldn't handle that. He'd become the monster that the hunters thought he was.

"Hey…Hey I'll be alright." He could hear Chris speaking to him but it didn't help, and Peter wasn't about to let go of him any time soon. Tears started to fall and Peter couldn't stop them. It was too much. The fear of losing Chris, the stress of being the alpha of his pack and keeping them safe from the rogue. He couldn't do it. "Peter…"

He had not cried since his family's funeral, had not shed a single tear. But he was breaking down. The walls he had built up around himself were starting to come down. He had been happy, he had a family, he had his pack and he had Chris. Everything was falling apart. Chris was in danger, his pack was in danger. He couldn't breathe.

Chris's hands were on his cheeks, holding his face. "Peter look at me."

He opened his eyes, his eyes burning from the tears. But he couldn't speak, his throat was too tight to get words out.

Chris pressed their foreheads together, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. "Talk to me Peter…"

"I'm going out of my mind…dying inside…I feel like I'm just going in circles. I get happy, I start to feel like life is getting back to normal. And then…something happens, something always happens…" He finally managed to say, closing his eyes. "Chris I'm not the person you knew in high school. There's barely anything left of that man…"

"I'll take what's left then," Chris whispered and pressed their lips together. "Cause you need me, as I need you, to feel complete."

And they stayed there, Chris holding onto Peter while the alpha calmed himself down, regained control of his mind. If there was one person who kept him sane, made him feel whole, complete, and happy. It was Chris.

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**Reviews are loved!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** Here's the next chapter! Keep an eye out for a High School AU for Chris and Peter. Cause you all are wonderful so I wanted to give you a present. And Chris and Peter in high school is it!

**WARNING: There is blood and a bit of violence in this chapter. Consider yourself warned.**

* * *

Peter brushed his lips against Chris's bare shoulder, the man's back pressed against Peter's chest. The events of the past several hours still fresh in his mind. His fingers brushed against the bite mark on Chris's already scarred skin, it would heal yes, but Chris had asked, had begged him to bite him, to mark him and claim him as his own. And when Chris had stared up with him with those beautiful silver eyes, his fangs just starting to show, Peter couldn't refuse him. He was the alpha, Chris was his mate, his mate had asked him to mark him, and that was something no alpha would refuse their mate.

He brushed his nose against the back of his neck, breathing in his scent, their scent that had mingled together. The hunter was fast asleep beside him, his heart rate slow, steady when only an hour ago, it had been racing, pounding hard in his chest.

Their surroundings were familiar, but dark, dusty, with little light. Not that either of them needed the light to see each other. It was Peter's old cabin, the place he had lived when he had moved away from home. Literally it was in the middle of the woods, the idea being it would be the perfect hiding spot for him and Chris. He found himself again in that moment, loving that decision.

He felt Chris stir, heard his heart start to beat a bit faster as the hunter started to wake up. Their legs were intertwined, one of Peter's was in between Chris's. A smile flickered across Peter's lips as he kissed Chris's shoulder again. "Hey…" Of all the things he could have said, the wonderfully beautiful romantic things he could have said to Chris after they had made love for the first time in years. Peter said hey. He hated himself.

Not that Chris seemed to mind. A faint smile formed on Chris's lips as the hunter leaned up, brushing their lips together. The mark on the back of Chris's neck would fade, but it would never completely heal, it was a mark of the alpha, a mark that the alpha's mate wore. He felt Chris's fingers touch his jaw, their eyes meeting again and Peter couldn't help but grin. "Hey," Chris whispered back at him, their noses brushing together.

What Peter wanted to do was stay there, hold him, spend the entire day in bed with him, but he couldn't do that. He had responsibilities, and Chris had to get home to his daughter. She was important to Chris, and he accepted that. It was only fair that he return her father to her. At some point. He had already kept him for a while.

The alpha sat up pressing another kiss to Chris's forehead before he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He looked back over his shoulder, the desire to get back into bed and not move was growing again. "I'd rather spend the rest of the day in here."

"In here? Or in bed. Cause this cabin Peter has seen better days. And it is in need of a good scrubbing." There was a smirk on Chris's lips as Peter rolled his eyes at the hunter. But he couldn't actually argue with him.

The cabin that he lived in after graduation up until the fire had seen better days. Much better days. It was one of several such locations throughout the area. Some were designed specifically for the werewolves if they did not make it back to the Hale house during a full moon. Some, like his own, were built as homes so that the pack could stay close at all times. He lived within a hundred yards of the one that had housed his brother-in-law. Was that the correct kinship term? God he hadn't a clue. It had been Kathleen's brother and his family, Annette and Tessa's father. He would babysit the two human girls for hours on end while Sebastian, whose wife had been killed by hunters the same night as his younger sister, Sasha, would go to pack meetings or go to work. By work he meant a new job, a secret job as a hunter of hunters, someone who exacted justice for the innocent people who hunters killed. Not every hunter followed The Code, and if they didn't, it was beings like Sebastian who dealt with them. Not just hunters either; if a werewolf broke the rules of conduct, he'd deal with them as well.

Regardless of the past, Chris was right. The sheets, which were now rather dirty, also smelled musty, and hadn't been washed in a long time. Everything else had a layer of dust over it. Not to mention there was little light besides natural light, perhaps he should have kept up with the bills. Or something like keeping up with the payments at least. Granted the pack wasn't large enough for him to actually need all the cabins anymore. So he left them alone.

But he found a use for it at last. "Chris…should anything happen you're welcome to stay in one of these. They're small, but they function and I could even get the heat turned back on. Even the lights."

"I'll be fine Peter…stop worrying."

"Like that is actually going to happen." He heard Chris laugh softly as he tossed the hunter his discarded clothes before going about putting his own back on. "Don't tell me you're surprised that I'm going to worry about you."

"I'm not surprised, touched more like."

Peter looked over his shoulder to Chris the hunter now dressed, standing beside him. A smile formed on his lips. "Run with me."

Chris looked up at him, and paused staring at him for a moment. It was as if he was figuring out what exactly Peter meant. And he let him as he stood up moving to the door and stepping outside, now fully dressed. He felt the wind blow back his hair, a smile forming on his lips.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he glanced back at Chris, his eyes red as rubies. Their eyes met and Peter grinned, taking Chris's hand leading him outside into the forest. He turned and started to run in his human form. The sound of Chris's footsteps running behind him caught his attention. Soon they were running side-by-side, alpha and his mate. God it was how it should have been.

With a glance towards Chris he leapt over a log landing with his paws on the ground, moving a few feet ahead of him. He slowed turning to look for Chris only to see a grey wolf move past him, and Peter let out a bark-like laugh as he went to catch up with his silver eyed mate.

Their powerful legs sent them through the leaves, dodging the thick trunks of the trees as they easily made their way through the forest. Had it been night, Peter would have tilted his head back and howled a beautiful howl. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, there running along side his beloved. He felt like he was flying, like he could chase the wind and touch the sky. He felt proud, he felt strong. And bloody hell he felt more alive than he had in years.

He slowed the pace as they came into the backyard of the Hale house; the rest of the pack was outside. Peter nuzzled and licked Chris's muzzle before he pulled away moving to shift back into his human form. There was a huge grin on his face as he walked towards Derek and Laura, the grey wolf still walking beside him.

And then Isaac was in front of him looking from Peter to the new wolf. Peter ruffled the teen's hair; he was in a genuinely good mood that only elevated when he saw that Derek had his arm around Stiles. He felt something move beside and glanced that way to see Chris again in human form. The alpha snaked an arm around the hunter, his other around Isaac. Oh he knew that at least Derek and Laura could smell Chris all over him and vice versa, and probably even Isaac.

For the first time since the fire he felt like he was normal, like he was whole and happy and there was not much that could bring him down from that. He had his pack. He had Chris. Hell, all things considered he had someone as good as a son too.

And then he couldn't help it, there was too much in him to keep quiet any more. Peter lifted his head, a howl erupting from him, his lone one soon joined by Laura, Derek and Isaac. Their howls continued while Peter lowered his gaze to look at Chris who was staring on in awe, his eyes silver and bright. A grin formed as Peter brought their lips together, the pack continuing to howl.

* * *

The day went on, Chris had returned home to tend to his daughter and play the doting father, the grieving husband. All those roles that Peter knew he was oh so good at playing. He had spent a good hour or two watching Laura, Isaac, Derek, and Stiles do some sort of game out back, he thought it might have been tag or something similar. Hide and seek wasn't fair when playing with werewolves.

Eventually he had been dragged away from the house with a simple call from Melissa. The two friends had met up in the woods by the lake campers used during the summer to go swimming. They had too as kids. It was also the site of their first kiss, basically their first anything. Peter had his hands in his pockets as they walked along the side of the lake as he told Melissa everything that had happened over the past few days. He told her what happened to Chris. He told her everything. And God bless her she just listened to him.

"It's nice to see you smiling so much Peter," she said in her normal tone of voice, or perhaps it was a few tones softer. "Seems like it's been a while since I saw that beautiful look on your face."

"It has been a while hasn't it?" He said with a grin, looking at her. Her heart was racing, pounding hard in her chest. Something was up; there was something that she was not telling him and well, he did not like that one bit. "Hey Lissy, what is it?" he asked using the nickname he had given her when they were little.

"It's…John he asked me out. I don't know I think he asked me out, it sounded like he had but now I can't be sure cause what if I'm reading too much into it. Oh god I probably am Peter."

And Peter was laughing at the sudden onslaught of nervous rambling and stuttering that came from his friend's mouth. He pulled her into a hug, still chuckling to himself. "Lissy he's liked you since we were kids. If it sounded like he asked you out, he probably did."

"Then…I should say yes right?"

He wasn't listening. The forest had gone quiet, far too quiet for his comfort. He put his arm around his friend, holding her close, protectively. Something was off. He heard it the sudden rush of air that came with. He felt blood on his hand and looked down, fear griping at his heart. Melissa was looking up at him, an arrow sticking out of her stomach.

Her legs buckled and Peter caught her, sinking to the ground. The scent caught his attention and he looked towards the figure approaching, a crossbow raised. His eyes widened as he stared at the hunter, knowing him on sight instantly. "Frank…" He said and felt Melissa try to sit up in his arms. "Why would you do this?"

"Because it's the only way to save her from you. Her son is one of your kind. You are an alpha. You are going to be the death of her. She is better off dead so she won't see what I have to do her son."

"Scott's your son too you ass," Peter growled, watching as the crossbow was raised again.

"He stopped being my son the moment he became a wolf."

What happened next, Peter isn't even entirely certain. His vision had gone red, his entire body shifted into the alpha form, his hulking form towering over the scared hunter. The stories of the man-eating monsters had derived from moments when the alpha completely lost control. Peter was gone. There was only the wolf.

It snarled at the hunter, dropping down onto all fours as it slowly stalked its prey. Its yellowed fangs were bared, his red eyes fixed on Frank. One arrow. Then another. Peter whacked them away with one swipe of his paw. Only one out of his entire quiver hit, and the crossbow was useless. He was growling, snarling as he lunged forward. He saw the knife. He felt it enter his shoulder. That didn't matter.

Blood came up from the hunter's mouth, spilling over his lips as the wolf's clawed paw pulled away from his stomach. It wasn't enough, this man had hurt a member of his pack and he deserved to die. To die a slow and painful death.

The wolf let him go, unaware that Melissa had called for help, his mind set on his goal of killing the man. Of making him fear for his life before he ripped him open. The man scrambled back, blood staining the ground.

The wolf stalked forward and sank his claws into the man's leg halting his movement. His claws were in his stomach again and he dragged them ripping him open, the smell of blood hit him and made his head spin. The man was screaming and it annoyed him. He leaned down and crushed his windpipe with a wet crunch between his powerful jaws.

The hunger came next, the ravenous, gnawing hunger and he couldn't stop himself. The wolf wanted to eat. And he did. He tore at the flesh wolfing down great hunks of it, blood staining his black muzzle. Nothing would separate him from his prize. Nothing this was his he had hunted it and killed it.

Nothing but the sound of a gun's safety being removed. The wolf looked up and met the eyes of the hunter and the sheriff, both of whom had their weapons raised and pointed at the spot between his eyes. From the corner of his eye he could see someone carrying away Melissa. His gaze returned to the two others standing there, standing over his prey growling at them.

"Peter don't make us do this…" The Sheriff was speaking, his voice shaking, but his hands steady, staring at what he could only imagine would be a monster to John's eyes. "We know you're in there…"

Something in the wolf stirred as his gaze moved to the hunter. Red eyes met silver, and Peter took a step forward then another. Chris lowered the gun holding his hand out to the beast, and the wolf held out his clawed paw like hand. By the time their hands touched, Peter was human. His hands and face covered with blood.

"Peter…" Chris's voice was soft, kind, not that Peter deserved it. He knew what he did; he knew what he had just done and what he had forced Melissa to watch. His stomach churned with its new contents and Peter was disgusted with himself. The alpha let out a choked sob as he fell forward onto his hands and knees, and gagged. He was coughing trying to get the flesh out of his stomach but it wasn't working.

Oh god what had he done? He was a monster, a murderer. It hadn't been that bad since the fire. His muscles were shaking, tense, sore as the creature in him fought for control again. His heart was racing, head throbbing, blood still coating the inside of his mouth. His vision started to go red again and then.

And then it stopped with the simple touch of Chris's hand on his shoulder. "Peter it's okay. Everything will be okay…" he said in a hushed voice as he smoothed his hand over his back. Peter climbed into his lap, clinging to him, his face buried into the hunter's neck. He was a target now. He had ripped a hunter to shreds he had killed him. He'd be on their radar. His pack would be in danger. All because Gerard Argent hated his guts and wanted him dead. Now he had a reason.

"We need to get him inside. Cleaned up." That was John speaking. Or at least he thought it was John, he wasn't really sure who else it could be.

"I'll take him…there's one of his cabins not to far from here. Can you handle the body?" John must have nodded because he could feel himself being led away. The smells were disappearing with each step.

But it wasn't to a cabin. He could tell that much. Chris had led him home. He could hear the nervous and panicked chatter from the beta wolves. He could make out Chris telling them that he'd explain everything to them later. God what they must think. He was covered in blood, with a knife would to his shoulder.

Oh he looked the picture of good health.

He was still out of it, his mind spinning, stomach churning. He felt like he was going to be sick again as Chris cleaned him up and changed his clothes. His body felt heavy and by the time Chris had gotten him into the bed, Peter was fast asleep.

* * *

By the time Peter opened his eyes, the sun was setting just beyond the window. Someone was in his room, someone that was not Chris. He rolled over onto his side, his stomach feeling like a truck had run over it. A note caught his eye, a note with the Triqueta symbol on the paper. The Monae family. But he had thought…

Peter opened the note and read it.

_Dear Peter,_

_Do not worry about the hunters. You and your pack are safe._

_-SM_

* * *

**__Reviews are loved!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes:** Wonder if people on here are still reading this. Hm... Not the point okay let's go. Chapter 10 was a pain in the ass because I really had no idea what I was writing. No not entirely true, I did but I wasn't sure where I was going with it for like half of the chapter. I think it came out decently. Hope you like!

* * *

"You should still be resting," Chris said, his voice laced with concern. There was no time to rest. Those initials. Sebastian Monae was alive. He had not been the only one to survive the fire. He thought he had been, he had been convinced of that for so very long. "Peter what happened?"

His thoughts were elsewhere but the touch of the cloth to his wounded shoulder brought him back out of the fog that was his mind. "Frank hurt her Chris. He shot her to save her from me and my kind…Because me and her son are werewolves. She got hurt because of me…"

Peter had yet to go to the hospital to see Melissa, but he knew that she was safe. In fact he was fairly certain that if John wasn't by her side he had an armed guard outside her room. Not that he wasn't madly in love with her or anything. Oh no that wasn't it at all. He could not face her. It had been three days and he was still having issues going to see her.

"It's not your fault Peter," Chris tried, a frown forming on his lips as he pulled the bandage away from his shoulder. "You have to believe that."

"I let her get hurt by him again…They all keep getting hurt because I can't do this…" His mind was racing; Melissa, Amelia, Daniel, Kathleen, Annette and Tessa. His mother and father. His younger sister. Oh god what would his father say. He had done such a bang up job as alpha. Oh look more people are dead or getting hurt because of him. "Sebastian's alive…"

"He worked for your brother right?" Chris asked leaning forward, his head tilted to the side.

"Yeah. Had the Monae family eyes. Bright blue wolf eyes…" There was a faint smile on his lips. "The entire family had them. Sebastian, Kathleen, Sasha. I bet Annette and Tessa would have too if they had not been born humans." And then it hit him. The reason why Erica was so good at being a wolf, a natural. He stood up suddenly, startling Chris as he tried to find the old photo album. He had a picture of her. He knew he did.

"Peter what?"

"Shush." Peter's eyes scanned the page and he stopped on the image of the three Monae children. Kathleen and Sebastian, and then the youngest, Sasha. She smiled up at him from the picture with her eyes bright. Peter closed his, taking a shaking breath. "Erica Reyes…" Oh god how had he not recognized it sooner. Sasha had married a human. The man she married? His last name had been Reyes.

Peter had never met the child. When Sasha died, Javier Reyes had taken the child and left Beacon Hills. None of them got to meet the little girl. But her eyes. Her eyes turned blue when she changed. The Monae family eye color. There was no way it was a coincidence.

He held the book out to Chris his hands were shaking slightly. She was his niece.

"Need to sit down…" Peter mumbled under his breath, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands. He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to stop the world from spinning. It was too much. So much for him to handle.

He could remember being there at their wedding, it was the first time that he and Chris had gone to a family function together. It was the first time he had introduced Chris to the pack as his mate. It had taken months of convincing but Sasha was willing to take the risk. After all she was the bride and what she said was law.

_It had been an all day affair, the wedding was over and the pack and the Reyes family were at the reception. It was a beautiful summer evening. Peter was six years younger than the bride, Sasha, and he did like her. Nothing about her he didn't like. The two of them had been thick as thieves when it came to all things wolfish. So when he had asked if he could bring his mate even though he was a hunter. That didn't seem to bother her. After all what could an eighteen year old hunter do that a pack of wolves couldn't handle?_

_It had been sneaking Chris out of his house that had been the hard part. He had to claim that he was going out on a date with someone else. It wasn't a complete lie. He was just going out with Peter instead._

_It was how Peter had ended up sitting at the table, his hand resting over Chris's as he watched the newly wed couple dance. Sasha looked happy, and that made him happy. But it also meant that he'd see less of her, something that he was not too fond of._

_The song changed to one he recognized, and he caught sight of Sasha motioning to him to go onto the dance floor. A smile flickered across his lips and he stood up. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" Peter asked holding his hand out to Chris._

_The hunter gave him a smile and took his hand, allowing Peter to lead him out onto the dance floor. Oh it was a scandle, he could see the faces on the pack as they recognized just who it was that the alpha's little brother was dancing with. _

_The words of The Mummer's Dance played in the background as Peter put his hands on Chris's waist, Chris's hands came up to rest on Peter's shoulders. They danced, not a care in the world about what the rest thought. It wasn't like any of them could do anything about it. No one dared to get in Peter's way._

"I remember her…"

Peter looked up to see Chris looking down at the photo album, flipping through the pages. At one point Chris had met every member of his family, each and every single one. Some hated him because he was a hunter, others tolerated him for Peter's sake. And apparently there were two survivors of the fire. Peter could have sworn that Sebastian had been in the house that night. Then again, he had not been thinking clearly.

The hunter took a seat beside Peter looking at him, concern in his eyes. It was odd for him to see such emotion, though perhaps now the hunter was starting to come out of his shell again. Chris had built up walls around himself, probably as a precaution or something that just came with the title of 'hunter.' Regardless it was still strange.

"I'm okay Chris. You don't have to worry…"

"I'm going to regardless of what you say," Chris countered nudging his shoulder gently. The hunter checked his watch and sighed softly. "I need to head back." Chris pressed a kiss to the top of Peter's head. "I'll call if I can."

Peter watched as Chris made his way towards the bedroom door. He didn't want him to leave. "I love you…"

Chris stopped turning back to look at him, a smile forming on his lips. "I love you too Peter Hale. Don't forget that."

He found himself alone in his room. He laid back on the bed his eyes staring up at the ceiling. There was a smile on his lips, faint, but a smile. Slowly he got up and made his way downstairs to where the pack was. Isaac looked up at him, worry written all over his face. Laura was reading some book. Derek had his arm around Stiles; the two of them were watching something on the TV.

"What are we watching?" Peter asked and all eyes were on him instantly. "I'm fine. Seriously. No don't even start with the questions, I really am not up for any of them."

With that he took a seat next to Isaac and put his feet up on the coffee table. It was a movie, some cheesy science fiction monster movie that Derek always seemed to be a fan of. But Peter didn't watch it. The others might but his mind was elsewhere.

It was back in the past, back to the night that he had told Chris that he loved him; the night that Chris found out he was a werewolf, and what happened afterwards. Honestly, he had no intention of ever telling his friends what he was. Besides Alan, but that was only because he already knew about Peter's furry little problem.

He sat there enjoying the chatter of his pack, the sound of their heart beats lulling him into a calm state.

There was blood in his mouth, the scent of Chris. He could smell him, could taste his blood. He could feel his claws sinking into his skin.

Peter's eyes snapped open as he lurched from his seat, gasping for air. The pack was staring at him again. What the hell had just happened?

He pressed his palms against his eyes. His head was throbbing. What was wrong with him? His body was shaking, aching. When he looked towards Stiles his eyes went red, a growl coming from his throat.

And then he was against the wall, Derek's clawed hand around his throat. Laura was yelling at them to stop as Peter easily shoved his nephew aside. His gaze was fixed on Stiles.

Smoke. He stopped, frozen in place at the sight of the match. It was and always would be his greatest fear. Fire. Of course it was with good reason.

What had happened…he wanted to attack Stiles. He had to get out of there. Peter grabbed his jacket and the keys to his motorcycle and left. A few minutes later he was out on the road, driving.

He pulled into the parking lot of the vet's office, taking off his helmet as he went inside, nearly making it all the way in. Until he got stopped by that damn mountain ash barrier. "Deaton. Open up."

The vet emerged from the back pulling a pair of gloves off; he stopped when he saw Peter a frown forming on his lips. "What is it?"

"It happened again…"

"You lost control the other day. I am not surprised."

"No Alan…the," Peter shook his head holding his hand out towards the mountain ash. He should have felt something some sort of force pushing his hand back but he didn't. "I feel like its back Alan…that part of me that enjoyed killing…the part I managed to suppress after the fire…"

Alan looked at him then opened the door that separated them. "Come in. Let's take a look at it then."

Peter went inside, slipping his jacket off.

"Shirt too Peter."

"I do know that Alan."

The alpha pulled off his shirt. His body had taken such a beating over the past month. Seriously. It was a wonder he was still standing, and he was sure lucky that werewolves did not scar. Otherwise his body would have been a mangled mess between the fire, the rogue's attack, the gunshot wound and, the most recent addition, a knife wound.

The pewter pendent shone against his skin, the matching tattoo on his left upper arm was visible. Few ever saw it. But now he also had a knife wound that had finally finished healing and-

"Damn it." Did Alan just swear?

"What is it?" Peter asked looking to the doctor as he looked at his side.

"The thing is infected. Lay on the table Peter, side up."

Peter did as he was instructed, closing his eyes. He could hear Alan whispering in what had to be Latin. Not that Peter could tell the difference, foreign languages were not his strong suit, unless being able to speak wolf counted. The faint scent of smoke, of incense reached his nose. A ritual, probably a healing one.

The wound was infected; it was taking his body's entire strength to be able to heal it, making it impossible for his body to fight anything else. Like the murderous monster that was trapped just below the surface.

He lay there while the shaman worked. After all that was what Deaton was. His friend, a guide for the pack, and a shaman. The table he was on was cold on his bare skin and was one of the few things that was actually keeping him awake. All he wanted to do was curl into a ball and sleep. Not that he'd let himself do that any time soon.

There was a monster inside of him waiting to break out and take control. And he was at his weakest, most vulnerable when he was asleep.

The last time he had flat out lost control had been right after the fire. He had almost killed every single one of the hunters that had been there when the fire was lit, and he had saved Kate Argent for last. He had enjoyed how it felt to take her life, loved it even. Then again it would have been hard not to in that state. It had come about from the combination of the death of his family and the fact that Chris was dying.

The time slipped away and eventually Peter had fallen asleep on the table.

* * *

"So you got another one huh?"

Peter grinned at Melissa when he walked into the hospital room. He had been feeling much better and, well, in a rash decision there was a new tattoo on his body. One on his forearm, which was covered by a bandage. So of course Melissa had seen it.

"Felt like it was time to update."

"Let's see it then." Melissa sat up more in bed, she was certainly looking much better than the last time he had seen her. Seems the wound to her stomach had not been as bad as he thought.

He set the flowers he had brought down beside her then took a seat on the edge of the bed, carefully pulling off the bandage. The center was the paw print of a wolf through it was an arrow. Intricate lines done in a Celtic pattern swirled around it. "Thought it was appropriate." He replaced the bandage, rolling his sleeve back down. "How are you feeling?"

"Bored and sick of being in this bed. I certainly will understand now when patients complain about being trapped in bed," Melissa replied stretching her arms above her head. "Think you could bust me out of here?"

"And face John's panicked anger at finding you missing? Oh I think not my dear," Peter replied with a chuckle, stealing the cup of Jell-o off her food tray. "The doctor told me he's been here almost every day, if he's not someone from the department is. That true?"

"What can I say he's a sweetheart." Melissa made a grab for the cup of Jell-o but Peter held it just out of her reach. "You're lucky I'm not supposed to move much or else it'd be your ass for stealing that from me."

Peter shook his head continuing to slurp up the delicious treat. "Laura been here too?" he asked catching the faint scent of his niece.

"She checks in on me once in a while. Likes to keep me company while hiding from the new surgeon who has set his sights on her."

He nearly choked on the Jell-o.

"Guess she didn't tell you huh?"

"She most certainly did not," Peter replied setting down the empty cup, coughing a bit as he did so. He was protective of his family. There was no reason to try and deny that. The fact that some guy here was making Laura want to hide? Oh he did not like that one bit. "Looks like I'll be having a talk with her later."

Melissa grinned at him lying back against her pillows. "Glad you finally stopped by Peter. Certainly took you long enough."

"I'm sorry Melissa, I know I should have come sooner."

"You should have Peter. You didn't scare me off when we were in high school. You can't scare me off now." She gave him a warm smile, the one that Peter had fallen in love with their freshman year of high school. "Head home Pete. Bet your family is missing you."

The alpha smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead softly. "I'll always keep you safe. You know that." He pulled back, standing up to leave the room. "Call if anything happens."

"Peter Hale stop stalling and leave."

Peter snorted but left the room, moving down the hallway of the hospital. He hated them, they smelled like death, disease, blood, urine, and other odors that he did not want to even think about what they could possibly be. Though his feet slowed as he got to one of the rooms. He could identify Lydia's scent, he knew it by heart, another human's scent and. And something else. Something that should not have been there.

He slowly opened the door to the darkened room, slipping inside silently. Almost instantly he felt Lydia's hand on his arm. She looked at him with frightened eyes then point across the room.

There was another teenager, one he did not recognize and. He couldn't believe his eyes. He had only ever seen pictures of the kanima in the bestiary. It had cornered the other teenager, its tail flicking back and forth.

Jackson was no longer in his bed.

"Lydia…what's his name," Peter asked in as quiet of a voice as he could manage, not wanting to draw attention to them.

"Danny. He's Jackson's…Jackson's best… She couldn't get out the words. The creature's head swung towards them and Peter clamped his hand over Lydia's mouth, not moving a muscle.

It eyed them and then looked back towards its prey.

"Danny. Raise your hand, hold it up to the creature," Peter said loud enough that Danny could hear him.

Again the kanima looked towards them with those snake like eyes. It hissed, making to go towards them, when Danny held up his hand. It stopped, catching sight of the hand from the corner of his eye.

Peter held his breath as it raised a clawed hand, placing it against Danny's. "Tell it to change back."

"C-Change back." Danny sounded frightened, hell the sound of his and Lydia's heart beats were starting to make his head ache. "Change back."

The three of them watched as the creature's form shifted. Scales became skin and hair again, the eyes went back to being human. Jackson was there, kneeling on the floor in front of Danny.

"What…what are…? Why am I…?" His words were jumbled confused and Lydia raced to his side, kneeling down beside him.

Peter made his way over to Danny. "You and I need to have a little chat later…actually." He looked down towards Jackson. "You should bring him a long as well."

Jackson looked up at him, met his gaze. "And why is that?"

"Because seems to me that I'm the only one of you three that has any idea what is going on. So if you want to know you best listen or else you Jackson might end up killing someone."

The three of them stared at Peter as he left the room without another word. He could feel a headache coming on. But in the back of his mind there was a little voice whispering that if he could get that Danny kid on his side, if the power that the kanima had could be on their side. The hunters would not stand a chance against him and his pack.

* * *

**Reviews are loved!**

**Next chapter is gonna be awesome. Stay tuned!  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes:** I finished NaNoWriMo for which this fanfic was being written. Needless to say I am very happy. Very happy. Like I can't describe how happy. So I hope you all enjoy this snippet into the lives of the Pack and the Argent family.

* * *

The talk with Lydia, Jackson, and, the kid Peter had never met before in his life but knew he was gay within seconds of spending time with him, Danny, had gone well. Surprisingly well actually. Honestly Peter had not expected it to go that well. He had expected some shouting, disbelief on Danny's part, and Jackson demanding he fix it. None of that had happened. Seems like the threat about Jackson killing people had worked.

With Alan's help Peter had managed to guide the three of them through what happened to Jackson, and what Danny's role in the situation had become. Jackson was the kanima, a lizard shape-shifter, that had immense power, including a paralytic venom. They explained how the kanima looks for a master, and he had found that with Danny. Danny could control Jackson, could easily keep him sane enough that they'd be able to get through this with little trouble while they searched for a cure. Or something so that Jackson wouldn't stay an insane lizard creature.

No, he was too busy dealing with his own insanity to be able to handle a kanima, as much as using the thing on Gerard Argent would have given him a sick satisfaction.

The three of them and Alan had left, leaving Peter with training. His goal that day was to get Erica to successfully shift into a wolf form. She had yet to be able to do it, but he knew she could. If she really was Sasha's daughter she could. Yet there seemed to be something holding her back.

Which is why he was outside sitting on the grass, Erica beside him. Isaac was off running in his wolf form, not far away as Peter could still hear his heart beating.

"Come on sweetheart, what's wrong?" Peter asked, leaning back on one arm, looking at her.

Erica shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? Guess I'm not cut out for this wolf stuff."

"Nonsense. You know what the wolf form brings?" he asked her leaning close. He brushed back her blonde hair, grinning. She smelled nice, impossible for him not to notice at this distance. "Freedom. Freedom from the confines of your human body. That's something you've wanted, isn't it darling?"

He saw the faint shudder, and grinned to himself as she nodded turning to look at him. She had her mother's eyes. "Then why can't I get this right?"

"What was your mother's name?" He asked, pulling away to look back up at the sky. He had his eyes closed listening to the sounds of the woods, of Erica's quickened heart, and Isaac's still close enough that he could call out and the pup would come running back.

"Sasha."

"Monae?"

"How did you know?"

And that was when Peter pulled the folded up photograph from his pocket, one of him and Sasha at her wedding. "Her older sister married my brother." He handed her the picture watching her eyes widening, mouth opening in a silent gasp. "I know you can do this. You just have to relax and embrace that part of you that is longing to break out."

Erica looked at him, then grinned placing the picture back in Peter's lap. She stood up glanced down at him and started to run. It was how many wolves made their first shift. The smile that broke out across Peter's face as he watched her leap into the air, her body swiftly and smoothly shifting into that of a timber wolf, could have lit up the night sky.

He started to laugh as Isaac collided with her, the two of them roughhousing, tumbling about on the forest floor. It was nice to relax there, just watching them. And god he had a family. It was slowly starting to sink in. In all legal situations, Isaac was his son. Erica? His niece. He had Derek and Laura. He had a family.

It had been several days since his minor freak out and the vision of himself killing Chris, and he had chosen not to worry about it. What was there to think about? Not like it would provide anything useful for him to linger on it. It would just bring heartache and pain.

* * *

It was impossible for Chris to be in the same room as his father. It was like the old man was testing him or something. There would either be wolfsbane near him, or some weapon that could have easily sliced his head off. What was worse? His disappearing acts meant that Gerard was getting closer to his daughter. He did not want Allison in the world of hunting. That was the last thing he wanted. The only reason he had taught her to shoot a bow and arrow was because it had been something he loved as a child.

His bow had been his most prized possession, a gift from his father one year. At least that had been until Gerard had found out he was friends with a member of the Hale family. The fight that had ensued had the neighbors calling the cops. His father had struck him across the face, hard enough it had split Chris's lip. The first thing Chris did was grab the prized bow and snap it in half throwing it at his father.

_Chris put his fingers to his lip; it was throbbing, wet with blood. He started at his father with wide surprised eyes. He had struck him, he had actually struck him. His skin still stung as he picked up the one thing in the house he cared about at that point, his bow. It had brought him many hours of sweet release, the calming effect it had had prevented him from going off on his father on many an occasion. And in that moment, Chris snapped it in half throwing the pieces at his father._

_He turned on his heel heading for the stairs. _

"_We're not done with this conversation." His father's voice was cold, and so calm it made Chris shudder._

"_No we are done. I won't do what you want me to do. He is my friend and I am not going to end it just because you say so," Chris snapped at him, turning to look down towards the man._

_He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He shoved some things into his backpack. He had to get out of there. He had to leave. Chris pulled his coat on; swinging his bag over his shoulder he went back downstairs. He had made it to the front door when a gunshot whizzed past his ear._

_Chris turned to stare at his father with fear and disbelief in his eyes. His mother was behind his father, Katie was crying. There was pure anger in his father's eyes. "You will do as you are told Christopher. You are an Argent, if you do not want to follow our rules then change your last name."_

"_Maybe I will," Chris said pulling open the door though his eyes were fixed on his father. "I'm leaving. You can't stop me."_

"_You leave all this. For him? He's a monster."_

"_I don't care." Chris met his father's gaze. "That doesn't matter because I love him."_

Chris looked at himself in the mirror, his face wet from the water he had splashed against his skin to try to get the remnants of wolfsbane off his flesh. His father had insisted on him helping with the bullets. Hell, why was he even referring to the man as his father? Gerard wasn't a father; he was a military drill sergeant. Chris hated him. Hated him so much he wanted to run an arrow through his heart.

He left the bathroom, going back into the kitchen to find Gerard talking to Allison. The two of them looked at him and Chris felt an uncomfortable knot form in his stomach. "What's going on?" he asked, not daring to take another step into the room.

"I was just informing your daughter that it is not the men who are in charge in our line of work. But the women." Chris felt his blood run cold. "And that the decision is hers about what we should do about the Hale pack."

"They haven't broken our laws," Chris said folding his arms over his chest, feeling his pulse begin to rise. "We have nothing against them."

"Peter Hale killed a hunter."

"In defense of a human."

"They killed your wife."

"No, that was the rogue Gerard. I was there. I saw it."

And that was when Allison looked at him with such hate in his eyes he nearly sobbed. "It bit you. I saw your arm Chris."

The arrow hit his shoulder before he had even known what was happening, and Chris fled. His movements were erratic, nearly crashing into different things, walls included before he made it outside. He got to the safety of the woods before he dared to look back at the house. He saw Allison, he saw Gerard and another woman was there. One he thought he recognized but he couldn't remember from where at that distance.

He couldn't stay there. He turned and ran into the woods, heading towards the Hale house. Back to the pack. His pack.

* * *

Derek had been outside watching the Stilinski house like he did almost every day. It was purely to make sure that Stiles was okay. Being around him, being with him brought out the protective side in him. The sight of the police car pulling into the driveway had Derek moving behind a tree. Not that he had to hide, but he was not exactly sure how well the sheriff would take to finding him there waiting.

He watched Stiles go into the house with his father. He could hear the two of them talking, but Derek did not dare pry. He was certain that was something that Stiles would not appreciate at all. Though he smiled when Stiles's heart beat got closer, as his scent grew stronger.

A pair of hands came up and covered his eyes and Derek chuckled. "Guess who sourwolf."

Derek turned and put his arms around Stiles, brushing his nose against the top of his head. He could smell gunpowder on him. "Where you shooting?" he asked pulling back to look at the younger man.

Stiles's face almost instantly brightened up. "My dad decided that if I'm going to run with wolves I should at least be able to defend myself."

He was wearing that red sweatshirt that had earned Stiles the nickname of 'Little Red' from Erica the second she saw him in it. Derek did mind at first but it had grown on him over the past few days. That and it smelled like Stiles and he fully intended on stealing it one day if Stiles could not be there with him.

"Your dad is a smart man," Derek replied, one arm going around Stiles's shoulder, hugging him close. "Should talk to Chris about getting you bullets that could actually hurt us then."

"Must I? I don't want to accidently kill one of you; with my luck it'd probably be you I'd hit when I was aiming for like the rogue or something." Stiles tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Or your uncle, and some how I don't think he'd like that very much."

That made Derek snort. "No he wouldn't like that at all. And I'm sure you're fine with a weapon Stiles. All it takes is practice. You'd do fine, would bet my life on it."

"Hope you don't actually have to do that," Stiles countered and ducked out from under Derek's arm, spinning away from him. "Is your uncle okay Derek…?" There was a worried look on Stiles's face. Interesting occurrence since not all that long ago Peter was ready to rip out Stiles's throat.

He could lie. He could say that his uncle was completely fine, but that wasn't the case. Derek had seen that look in Peter's eyes before. The last time had been the night of the fire when there had been a gun pressed the base of his skull. The completely dead look in Peter's eyes; the look of only hunger and rage. It was animalistic. It was terrifying.

"No. He's not," Derek answered leaning against the tree he had been hiding behind. "And I don't know if he'll ever be okay again Stiles. I am worried about him."

* * *

Laura had gone into town with Erica, deciding that since they were cousins they should at least bond and spend some time together. That and she was practically thrilled that there was another female for her to spend time with besides Lydia. Not that she didn't like Lydia, but Lydia wasn't a wolf. Lydia wasn't family.

It was how Erica and Laura had wound up in the park together, Erica talking excitedly about what had happened earlier, in a quiet enough voice that only Laura could hear her. Peter was lurking somewhere nearby as he had been the past few days. Isaac was at a weekend practice for lacrosse, so Laura had figure she and Erica should do something.

Or that had been the plan right up until they saw Allison in the park with Gerard. Laura felt herself shiver at the sight of the two of them, her inner wolf was struggling to get out so she could protect Erica worse came to worse. The fear that was coursing through her was one she knew all too well. It was the same thing she felt the night of the fire. And Allison had that same homicidal look in her eyes that Kate Argent had.

She saw the arrow before it had hit them and put herself between it and Erica. She waited for the pain, but none came. Cautiously she opened her eyes, looking up to see an African American teen standing there, the arrow sticking out of his chest.

"Boyd," Laura heard Erica say. And then Peter was there, sitting the teenager down.

Peter was whispering into Boyd's ear, the teenager was struggling to breathe. Laura moved to kneel beside the two of them looking to Peter. Her uncle met her gaze, his eyes flickering towards the arrow.

Laura took hold of it, and pulled it out. Boyd started to cough, but his sounds stopped as Peter bit down on the teen's neck. Laura knew that Peter hated having to turn people so young, they were already an emotional firecracker enough as it is, and they didn't need wolf powers on top of it. But from the way Erica was looking at Boyd, the way he risked his life to save them. There was much more at work here than saving a kid's life.

So there would be another new member to the pack.

* * *

Practice had gone longer than expected, and Isaac was in a rather foul mood by the end of it, not that he wanted Scott to notice, which he probably would if he wasn't too busy thinking about that girl again. But no one on the team really paid him much mind except to congratulate him on a great job at practice. It wasn't difficult, it let him exercise his ability to control himself.

He shoved his things into his bag and picked up his backpack, carrying it and his gym bag out of the locker room and into the parking lot. In the back of his mind he could recall Peter mentioning that he would not be able to pick him up that day, but he couldn't recall why. Derek was probably with Stiles and Laura was probably with Erica. Meant he was on his own to get back to the Hale House.

On foot.

Isaac took a breath, readjusted his hold and started the trek back through the woods towards his intended destination. It wasn't more than five minutes before he got the feeling that someone was watching him. He could hear them, the heartbeat, the sound of breathing. But he couldn't see whoever it was.

When he turned towards the house again, there he was. A kid no older than himself, wavy brown hair, and dark eyes. A grin formed on the male's lips as he took a step forward. "Sorry, hope I didn't frighten you." As he spoke Isaac watched as his eyes turned silver. "That was certainly not my intention."

"Who are you?" Isaac asked in a cautious tone of voice, he was close enough that he could make it back to the house. He knew he was fast, Peter kept insisting that he was. But was he fast enough to outrun this stranger? "I have to go, excuse me…" He muttered, going to push past him.

"I know what you are Isaac."

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face the other wolf. His brow furrowed in confusion. "How do you know my name?"

"I listen."

"You shouldn't be here."

"My name is Charlie. There, now you know my name too so we're even." Charlie grinned taking a step forward. "Your alpha has his hands full doesn't he? He's being forced to turn teenagers. Interesting tactic on the hunters part don't you think?"

With a sudden burst of adrenaline Isaac had pinned the other wolf to the nearest tree, a low and threatening growl in his voice. "Don't you dare speak about my father like that."

"Your father? Your last name is Lahey, not Hale."

"Names don't make a family."

Charlie smirked at Isaac and put his hands on Isaac's arms to push him off. The shock that went through Isaac made him let go stumbling back with a startled look that mirrored the one on Charlie's face. "Did you do that?" Charlie asked, his gaze darting down to his palms.

"No…I thought you did…" When he looked at Charlie again he frowned slightly, there was something different, or something that seemed different since the shock. Then he turned, picking up his things and flat out ran back to the Hale house. The newcomer was a wolf, none like he had ever met before.

* * *

Gerard Argent stood outside of the house. The hunters had gone out to reclaim the abomination that had once been his son. He wouldn't get far. He had a secret weapon. Not just Allison, but one that no one had yet realized existed.

A grin spread across his face as he watched the hunters drag Chris back to the backyard. The wolf was bound with ropes drenched in oil made from wolfsbane, and there was tape over his mouth.

The tape across Chris's mouth muffled his snarls and growls of pain. His eyes were silver. A chill, an actual flicker of fear ran through the older hunter's body at the sight of the silver eyes. But nonetheless he knelt down by Chris, forcing the man's head down, exposing the mark on the back of his neck. "Well looks like you will still be of some use to me yet Christopher."

* * *

**Oh look another wolf with silver eyes. Gee I wonder if that is significant.**

**Reviews are loved!  
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	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes: ** I want to play a game. You are my readers and you have not yet realized the sheer amount of hell these characters are about to be going through. Do you keep reading despite the dangers that lie ahead? Or do you turn back now and never know the ending to the story. The choice is yours. The game starts now.

* * *

After an afternoon hunting with his pack minus Chris, Peter and the others had gone back to the Hale house. It had been an afternoon full of fun, even Scott had decided to show up. Though Peter was certain that Melissa had had something to do about that. They were outside while Peter cleaned the fresh kill, not minding the blood on his hands as much as he probably should have. A cold chill ran up his spine as an unfamiliar scent carried over to him on the wind.

No…no it wasn't unfamiliar. But it couldn't be.

"Derek, Laura get them inside," he barked at his niece and nephew.

It was impossible…

Isaac made as if to protest, but with one look from Peter he allowed himself to be pushed inside by the two older wolves. Derek came up beside Peter looking at his uncle with confusion in his eyes, Laura stood not far off. They were worried, cautious and on guard. Something had startled their uncle and they did not know what.

But dear god if they knew…

Slowly Peter made his way around the house, wiping the blood on his hands off on his jeans. There were several black SUVs in the driveway, and his stomach began to churn uncomfortably. Hunters. Chris was not among them. But there stood Gerard Argent, his sword drawn, tip pressed into the ground.

"What are you doing here? I have not broken your laws," Peter said, standing far enough away that he could react if need be. All the fears of the past were bubbling up in him again, the terror that his pack might get hurt because of his irrational decision.

"You killed a hunter Peter Hale. That offense is punishable by death," Gerard said coolly, his gave unwavering.

"He attacked Melissa McCall, I acted in her defense," Peter said. He was aware of Laura and Derek standing beside him. They shifted their stances slightly ready to fight and defend their alpha, their uncle.

"This is the second time you stand accused of killing a hunter. But only the first time you succeeded."

Peter's entire body went tense; painfully tense as he watched the door to the SUV just behind Gerard open. He could hear Derek's heart rate pick up instantly, he could hear the murmurs from the pups inside the house. And then it was as if someone ripped the carpet out from under him.

"Well this is a surprise. Peter and Laura Hale? Oh and little Derek too. Looks just like his mother." Kate Argent stood there, gun strapped to her waist, another in her hand. She grinned, her blonde hair pulled back out of her face. The grin on her face, the look of sheer sadistic joy was sickening.

The last shred of sanity left him. He had killed her. He remembered it. He could remember slashing her throat, biting onto her. The color drained from his face. She had survived… She was the rogue. Not just a rogue.

She was an alpha.

No. It couldn't be happening. It shouldn't have been happening. It couldn't be real.

He was shaking, violently shaking. His throat clenched, chest tightened, he couldn't breathe.

"Oh what's the matter Hale not happy to see me? My brother sure was. Funny, he smells different than I remember him. Then again. A bite would do that." And there was Chris; he could smell him. He was bound and gagged; the ropes stunk of wolfsbane. Kate pulled her older brother from the car, throwing him to the ground. His shoulder was bloody, wounded from what looked to be an arrow that had yet to be removed. And his daughter was standing over him, bow in hand, arrow drawn back pointed directly at Peter.

It was too much. Peter doubled over. His hands clenched so tightly his claws were ripping apart his palms. His stomach was churning. He couldn't breathe. Someone had their hand on his back, someone was calling out to him. He was falling, drowning. It wouldn't stop, he couldn't think.

And then it did. Everything faded away. He was numb.

When Peter looked up; his eyes were red and rage had overwhelmed him. It took control and sank its claws into his mind. There was nothing. The woman who had killed his family, the woman who had tried to hurt his pack, she had tried to kill his mate. His mate who was now bound with the wolfsbane soaked rope and gagged. His mate who, God only knows what they had done to him.

No, there was nothing left. Peter Hale was gone. Only the wolf remained.

"What's wrong with him?" One of the hunters asked.

Peter took one step forward, another, his form shifting. But not to the large black wolf that he was normally seen in. He grew in size, black fur sprouting over his body. His features twisted and contorted, morphing into the wolf-like ones of his alpha form. The beast let out a howl, angry, threatening. He wanted them dead. All of them dead.

"Peter!" Someone shouted his name. But he couldn't tell who. It might have been Laura or Derek.

An arrow flew at him and he easily swatted the tiny thing aside. Pathetic attempt. A small arrow couldn't stop him. They would all be dead and he would be free. Free from the clutches of the hunter. They would all pay for the sins of Kate Argent. They'd regret that they saved her life.

He dropped to all fours, ready to charge when something slammed into his side, sending him sprawling to the side. Peter hit the ground hard, but was on his feet in the next instant. He snarled and looked to see who dared to stop him. And froze.

There were two wolves standing there, shifted. One he recognized as Sebastian, older, a bit worse for wear, but it was him. The other? He didn't know him, but it was someone with silver eyes.

"I recommend you leave," the silver-eyed teen said in a low voice, something near a growl.

Kate's eyes had turned red, but Gerard put his hand on her shoulder shaking his head. "We'll be back Hale." The hunters got into the caravan, driving away.

The brunette turned to look at Sebastian, then down at Peter, his eyes having gone back to their normal color. But Peter wasn't there. Only the wolf.

And that's what he looked like, his form had changed again and the large black wolf had its ears tilted back, snarling, pawing at the ground. Peter was angry, angry that this teenager had let his targets get away so easily.

"Oh now that's not very nice," the teenager said then looked to Derek and Laura. "You two are his pack yes? Calm him down. Now."

It was Laura that stepped towards the snarling animal. She held out a hand to him, a frown on her lips. "Uncle Peter…it's okay they're gone now." Her words reached him but that didn't stop his snarling. Laura turned to look at her brother, frowning.

It was Stiles who came out of the house. Stiles went over to where Chris had been left, broken, bloody and bleeding, and freed him from his restraints and the gag over his mouth. The rest of the pack that had been hiding inside was outside looking at their tormented alpha.

Everyone fell silent as Chris slowly made his way towards Peter. The wolf snarled, lashing out with his paw. He struck Chris's already injured shoulder, but that didn't stop him. The former hunter lowered himself to his knees when he got close enough, making himself lower than the alpha. Chris tilted his head to the side baring his neck, showing his submission to his mate. Peter didn't react, he didn't lash out, he just stood there growling. So Chris moved forward, wrapping his arms around the wolf's neck, burying his face in the fur. "Come back to me Peter…"

And slowly Peter was able to turn back into his human form. But he felt numb, completely numb. His arms wrapped around Chris, his eyes stared blankly at the ground in front of him.

She was alive.

There were two newcomers. A stranger in his territory, and an old friend. Someone was speaking to him, but he couldn't make out who at that point; he was still regaining his control of his body.

Kate Argent was alive.

"They'll be back," the newcomer said.

Finally Peter was able to snap back into some semblance of his old self. He stood up and looked at the newcomer. "Who are you?"

"Charlie Airgead, and I'm sure you know Sebastian." Peter would deal with Sebastian later. Right now it was Charlie who he was curious about.

"Your eyes…"

"Turn silver? Yes, does this surprise you?" Peter nodded. "You don't remember what it means do you?"

At first he couldn't remember what the hell the Charlie kid was talking about. Then it struck him. How could he have forgotten? "Le Bete…"

"There we go." Charlie grinned, his arms folding over his chest. "Now isn't that something, another wolf with silver eyes. You must be an Argent." His gaze had turned to Chris. "Judging from your sister's eyes she'd be the alpha for our clan. I don't like that." Charlie returned his gaze back to Peter. "We'll be around. When they come back call for us. We'll be here. Let's go Sebastian." The two turned and left, walking back into the woods.

Though Charlie stopped looking back over his shoulder at Isaac for a brief moment before he shifted and the two wolves left.

And the barrage of questions started from the rest of the pack. His head felt like it was going to explode if they did not shut up that instant. One person had their hand raised. "Stiles?"

"Le Bete was the wolf in France right? How is he connected to it?" Stiles asked and it was an honest question. "How did he know Mr. Argent was an Argent?"

Peter turned, pressing his lips to Chris's shoulder. The stories his father told him were slowly coming back to him. "There were three survivors of the monster Le Bete. One gained the golden eyes, one had blue, the other had silver. The silver eyes are the rarest. It lays dormant within the individual. We, the werewolves, thought it had died out…"

He couldn't remember the exact details; just that those with the silver eye had the most influence from Le Bete. "That boy is known as The Beast. He's a hunter of hunters." Oh he had heard of The Beast, a teenager with silver eyes and ferocity that had not been seen since the attacks in France.

"But then why does Mr. Argent have silver eyes?" Isaac piped up, his head tilted to the side, eyes wide with curiosity. God he was a puppy.

"Because they're related. Eye color is passed down from pack member to pack member. It's why Derek's eyes go blue. The Monae pack which his mother belonged to was known for their blue eyes." Peter was way too tired for this history lesson, but who else could give it to them. His gaze darted to Erica before he shook his head. He let go of Chris. "I need to run…" he muttered. "Don't follow me. Any of you."

With that he was gone, off in the woods. His paws thudded on the ground as he kept running. He ran the entire way to the graveyard before he shifted back to his human form. His hand shook as he unlocked the door to the tomb and went down. He sat on the ground, his back pressed against the cool stones.

Peter let out a choked sob, the tears starting to fall down his cheeks. His entire body shook as the grief swept over him. He wouldn't let anyone else see him cry. But he did. He had been there at Sasha's funeral when she had been killed in a freak accident. He had been their when John's wife was murdered, had held Stiles in his arms while she died. He had gotten to the river too late to save his younger sister, Lauren.

He had been there the night of the fire.

He had listened to the screams and cries of his family as they were burnt alive. He could smell the flesh burning, the smoke. Little Annette and Tessa, both human, both so young. He had listened to Kathleen die, making him promise with her last breath to protect Derek and Laura. His big brother who had raised him had died. And Peter had never had a chance to say good-bye.

His chest felt tight and he banged his head back against the stones, his hands clenched so tightly his nails had cut into his palms.

The only salvation he had found was that he had killed Kate Argent. But she was alive. She was alive and they were dead.

He had failed.

He had let them down.

He had not been strong enough.

Peter had not cried at the funeral for his family. He had sat tall and held his head high. He had to be strong for Derek and Laura. That did not seem to matter. They had left the next day. He had been in a wheelchair. His friends asked him what was wrong. He wouldn't answer them. Never answered them.

He had not been able to cry then, but now? He couldn't stop. He didn't until his cries were nothing but dry sobs. His chest ached, his eyes burned.

"Peter…"

He turned his head to look at Chris. Of course the hunter would have ignored him. Chris moved and sat down beside Peter, putting his arm around his shoulders.

Peter tried to curl up as close to him as he could. He felt small, powerless, and he hated feeling like that. He closed his eyes and tried his best to block the images that were swirling, filling his mind. Having Chris there did help, but only a little bit. The guilt was back, the guilt and the anger. It would take a miracle to stop them from controlling him again.

* * *

**Okay I'm no where near done just yet. Don't worry I was just feeling rather creative.**

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	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Notes:** I did warn you. I did and now here's the start of the spiral into hell for the characters. Enjoy!

**There is blood and some descriptions of injuries.**

* * *

The entire backyard had been turned into an obstacle course, one that Peter had not seen anything like in years. It was something that his parents had done for the younger members of the pack, and something that Daniel had continued while he had been alpha. Now it was his turn. His pack was young, most of them teenagers and none of them were fully in control. Excluding his niece and nephew of course. Derek and Laura could handle what was set up in their sleep.

Each obstacle was designed to test their skills and abilities as werewolves, teach them to learn what was given to them. Not to hide from it. Embrace the inner wolf. In the back of Peter's mind he was worried about how this session would go, but he had to have faith that his young pack would be able to handle it.

They were each different, each possessed a particular strength that the course was designed to force them to use, and strengthen the rest. Boyd was strong, Erica had some of the quickest reflexes he had seen, Scott was able to shift the fastest, and Isaac? His dear pup was just plain fast. But it was not just the wolves who he was working with today; no, he had Jackson and Danny come as well.

After all, they had to practice f Danny would be able to control the kanima that Jackson would become. Alan was there as well to help teach Lydia and Stiles. That's what the day was about, learning, becoming stronger.

_That's what you're thinking. But you are training them to become soldiers, just like your father did to you._ Peter frowned as that thought crossed his mind. It was dangerous territory that they were heading into and at the very least he wanted each of them to be able to defend themselves.

And that had been the reason he had called in Charlie and Sebastian. His inner voice had told him not to trust Charlie, after all he was a known killer, but then again so was he. He had made the offer, asked them to join the Hale pack. He'd need all his strength if he was to not only go against the hunters, but against a rogue alpha as well. To his surprise they accepted. It was a bit unsettling, he had pegged them both as omegas, the loners, but he was certain that they both had ulterior motives.

For Sebastian it was simple. Erica. As for Charlie. Well, Peter wasn't too keen on the way he looked at Isaac, but he had no way of knowing if it was a bad thing or not. Isaac didn't seem to mind, so he didn't either.

Sebastian took on the role as enforcer once again. He was strong and had no problem chasing someone away. The enforcer's role was to guard the alpha family and keep the alpha safe. But Peter needed two, and the only other person he thought would fit was Boyd who accepted without hesitation. Peter was thrilled; the display at the park had been more than enough to prove to him that Boyd was worthy of the role.

His two official betas, those who were second in command, were Derek and Laura. There was no one else he trusted with that role besides them. Laura was kind, caring, and able to tend to wounds. Derek was strong, loyal, and courageous. They balanced each other out.

Then it came down to the alpha family. Just who did he classify as those who were his family, those that Sebastian and Boyd were sworn to protect? That was easy for Peter. The answer was Isaac, and Chris.

There was a smile on Peter's lips as he watched Charlie run the drills with the pack; if anyone knew about this sort of thing it was the kid who had run away to become the infamous hunter killer. Sebastian was working one on one with Boyd on specific tasks.

A pair of arms slid around his waist, and a smile formed on Peter's lips as he leaned back against Chris Argent. Since the incident with whatsherface over a week ago, Chris had moved into the Hale house, had packed up his things and left. He turned his head, brushing his nose against the hunter's cheek. "Was wondering when you'd venture out to join us." The previous night had been a full moon. Peter hadn't let anyone outside. It had been Chris's first, and it had seemed to take a toll on the man. He had been in bed since the moon set, and this was the first time Peter had seen him all day.

"Was tired." Chris lowered his head, pressing his nose against Peter's neck, still holding him tight. They were both afraid, though neither would say it. They were afraid that Peter would snap again and this time he wouldn't be able to come back. He'd become the rabid dog that a hunter would put down. "What are they doing?"

He still sounded tired to Peter, but he glanced back towards the obstacle course. Laura was racing Derek through it and Peter grinned brightly at the sight. It wasn't something he had seen them do since before the fire. Laura was the faster of the two of them by far but being fast could only get her so far, which was evident when Derek easily leapt over a tall board that they had set up and Laura had to go back and get a running start.

"I think the technical term is showing off."

Derek had come across the finish line first only to be tackled to the ground by his older sister.

"Hey Peter." His gaze shifted towards where Alan was seated around a table that had stacks of books on it with Lydia and Stiles. "Why don't you give it a go then? Surely you could use the practice."

If he had hoped to weasel his way out of it by saying that he had no reason to, he could have but the entire pack had heard and was staring at him. Looks like that decision had been made for him. He pulled away from Chris, taking hold of his hand as he turned to face him. "Wish me luck love," he said with a grin, bringing his hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it.

"You don't need luck. You got me."

Now there was incentive enough for Peter. He moved towards the starting line, watching as Chris stood by the finish line. Peter closed his eyes lowering himself to the ground, his fingers just barely resting on the cool earth. He heard Charlie shout go, and he was off like a bullet.

Each of his movements was smooth, flawless. Up, under, around and through each obstacle, nothing actually stood in his way. The practice all those years ago was still fresh in his mind, it was as if he had never forgotten his training that his father had insisted on. One last jump and he landed right in front of Chris.

Peter straightened up grinning brightly, panting slightly from the effort he had exacted. "How'd I do?"

"Nice landing, points for style." Chris was smiling but shaking his head, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "But I think you were showing off."

He slipped his arm around Chris's waist leading him away from the others. "Well of course I was. You should know that. You were standing right there."

Taking a seat on the grass, he tugged Chris down next to him. Had the rest of the pack not been outside, well they wouldn't have been sitting and there would have probably been a few less clothes on Chris's part. It did frustrate Peter every so often that there was almost no privacy in the house, a side effect of living with a bunch of werewolves. No matter how quiet they could be, it was their heartbeats that always gave it away.

There they sat till the sun began to set and the pack members who did not live at the house had to leave. They watched Danny work with Jackson on controlling the kanima, and by the end of the day, Jackson easily followed the majority of Danny's commands. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd all seemed to have bonded and bonded quickly as it were. Charlie and Sebastian left without a second word. Scott left with Stiles, Lydia with Danny and Jackson.

And Peter found himself outside with Chris, and no one else. Derek had gone inside with the trio, and Laura had left to go to work. Chris was all but asleep on the grass; the poor man was still tired. Not that Peter minded, he liked being able to just watch him, hold him. However it was getting dark and despite the fact that they both could easily see at night, he wasn't about to stay outside with Kate Argent in town.

He lifted his tired mate into his arms, carrying him back inside and up to their room. Or that had been his plan until Chris woke up enough to mumble something about needing a shower. Shower? Why shower when he could run a bath for the both of them and get away with still holding Chris.

"Wake up Chris," Peter whispered to him, brushing his lips just below his ear. "Come on if you want a bath you gotta get up. Can't undress you and get the tub set."

He could hear Chris grumble at him, but he stood up, swaying slightly. God how badly had the full moon affected him? Peter gave him a warm smile, and then went into the bathroom.

Peter sat on the edge of the large tub, and silently he was thanking Melissa for suggesting he get a large one, one of those Jacuzzi things, for the master bedroom. He had never had much use of it before, but he was certain he'd like it. If only so that he could still hold Chris.

A few minutes later, they were in the water together. Chris was situated in between Peter's legs, back pressed against his chest. The hunter, though Peter supposed that that no longer fit Chris since he had all but given up hunting for good, seemed content, relaxed.

He seemed happy.

Chris shifted his weight, causing Peter to groan at the movement. Though all thoughts subsequently stopped when Chris's lips were on his own. His eyes closed, his hand smoothing down over Chris's scarred back.

But that's all. Just a kiss and nothing more. Though what a kiss it was. It lasted, consuming the both of them in nothing but thoughts of each other. The heat of his body, the feel of his skin against his. "I love you," he whispered to him, his words brushing against his lips.

There was no time for Chris to answer back as a horrified howl cut through the air, distant, but even from far away Peter knew it was Derek's.

It was a situation that was straight from hell. A worst-case scenario in all forms and ideas of the phrase. The memories of the past came flooding back as the scent of blood hit Peter's nose. The last time he had come to the house and smelled such a scent had been the night that Amelia Stilinski had been murdered.

John had been on the night shift; it had been the reason that Amelia had called Peter instead of her husband, panicked. She was frightened, there was someone outside the house, but it was John's first night as Sheriff and she did not want to bother him. So Peter had done the logical thing, he told her to hide, to take Stiles and hide.

Amelia had been a beautiful woman with an amazing knowledge of anthropology, though she dabbled in art as well. More specifically, she was skilled with Native American spiritual beliefs. It had been Alan who had first introduced John and Amelia. It had been a match made in Heaven in Peter's option. And she had known what Peter was the first time they had met. It didn't scare her away, and Peter appreciated that. Hell that was why they first started to get along.

She studied people, cultures, and found pack life absolutely fascinating. Amelia would often joke about doing a study on the Hale pack, but she never did. She did draw though. She was always drawing. Pictures of John and Stiles had been all over the house. She had even drawn one of Peter and Chris, something he cherished to this day. Out of all the humans Peter had come to know who were not among his original group of friends, he liked Amelia the best.

That was the reason he had gone to the Stilinski house that night, walking out on a pack meeting to help her. He was in his early twenties and the official second in command of the Hale pack. So he could leave without Daniel's permission. He could remember running the entire way to the house. Despite the fact that he loved his motorcycle he was faster on foot. And he did not want to waste any time.

The second he got there, he had smelled blood, and heard the distinct sound of three heartbeats.

_A knot formed in Peter's throat, his stomach churning as he went inside the dark house. A call, a panicked call had drawn him there, had gotten him to up and leave in the middle of a pack meeting to go help his friend. Yet the house was dark, it seemed empty despite the fact that he knew otherwise._

_The scent of blood hit him as he stepped in through the back door, which had been kicked in. The adrenaline started to pump through his veins, his senses all on high alert as he picked up the phone. John needed to be there, he needed to get home, something had happened._

_He called the police station, asking them to put the Sheriff on. _

"_Sheriff Stilinski speaking." Not the answer he was expecting but god it was good to hear his friend's voice in that precise moment._

"_John, it's Peter. I'm at your house," Peter said in as quiet a voice as he could have managed. "Something's happened. Get here quick, bring help." Without another word he hung up the phone, his eyes returning to scanning the darkened room._

_He followed his nose, the scent of blood growing stronger as he went towards the stairs. It was almost unbearable as he stepped onto the second landing; an involuntary shudder ran down his spine. There were two heartbeats in the bedroom, one steady, calm, the other slow and steadily getting slower._

_Peter took a breath and went inside._

_Amelia lay on her stomach on the floor, blood pooling beneath her. There were two bullet wounds, one to her shoulder, the other to her lower torso, the blood seeping from them stained her top. When she spotted him, she held out a shaky hand to her, fingers slick with her own blood. "Peter."_

_He was next to her in an instant, her hand in his as he held her in his free arm. He wished that his bite would save her, but it wouldn't. He was not an alpha. If anything, all it would do at that point was just quicken her death. He pressed his hand to her cheek, giving her a faint smile. "John's on his way…"_

"_G-Genim. He's after-" She stopped as a fit of coughing took hold of her, blood staining her pale lips._

"_Hush…" Peter whispered, not wanting her to waste her energy on speaking to him._

_That was when he heard the click of a gun's safety being removed. His body stiffened as he carefully set Amelia back down, raising his hands. _

"_Where is the boy?"_

"_Why do you want to know?" Peter's heart was racing, pounding hard in his chest. The combination of both anger and fear was driving his mind, his body. His eyes had turned gold, and he could feel his teeth sharpening. He kept his fingers curled as his claws pricked at his skin._

"_He's tied to the Hale pack." A hunter. "He cannot be allowed to live." A hunter who wanted to kill an eight-year-old child who just so happened to be his godson. Fantastic._

"_Guess it sucks to be you…" Peter mumbled as he slowly stood up. "That's my godson you're after."_

"_I'm not afraid of you," the hunter stated, and Peter could hear him take a step forward._

_Peter smirked as his transformation into his beta form completed. "You should be." He spun around, his claws slicing open the man's wrist, forcing him to drop the gun. He growled dangerously, advancing towards the hunter. His teeth and claws were bared and he did have every intention of slaughtering the man._

"_No one mentioned a Hale coming. I'm out of here." The hunter ran out of the room, and his features returned to normal, back to being human. Peter wanted to follow, wanted to make him pay. But he had to find Stiles, had to find him for Amelia._

_It was easy enough to locate the frightened child. Stiles had been hiding in the pantry, shaking, trying to muffle his fearful cries. Peter thought he'd have to coax him out, but Stiles launched himself at Peter, and clung to him. The boy buried his face in Peter's neck as Peter lifted him off the floor._

_And that was when he heard John come home. "Peter?"_

_His hold on the eight year old secure, Peter easily carried him, going to find his friend. John stared at him, taking in the sight of Peter's bloody hands, his face that was smeared with it. "She's upstairs." John was up the stairs looking for her in the next moment and Peter followed him._

_He stood in the doorway, his heart breaking as he watched the scene unfold as sirens began to sound in the background. John held her in his arms, crying, begging her to stay with him. They whispered to each other, soft words of love, of good-bye. _

"_Mommy?" Stiles muttered, staring towards where his mother and father were. Peter's hold on the boy tightened as he felt Stiles begin to shake. "Mommy?" Again the boy asked, calling out for his mother who would not answer. Peter pressed his lips to Stiles's forehead, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall as Stiles started to cry. _

_The boy clung to Peter, his uncle Peter who could make anything better, but not that time. He couldn't save her. There was nothing he could do. _

_Amelia motioned for Peter to go closer, and he did, kneeling beside her. Amelia touched Stiles's cheek, telling him to be a good boy for his daddy, that she loved him. Stiles managed to get out 'I love you mommy,' in between his choked sobs._

_Peter closed his eyes holding the boy close, tears sliding down his cheeks. The sirens were closer._

"_Keep them safe Peter…" _

"_You know I will…"_

_The sirens did nothing to drown out the sound of Amelia's heart slowing._

"_I love you," John whispered to her. She didn't move. "Amelia…?" He heard John ask, but there was no response. John was crying, pressing a kiss to his wife's forehead, holding her close to him. Her heart had stopped._

_She was gone._

Again, Peter found himself at the Stilinski house, drawn there by his nephew's howl this time. Something had happened. Something bad enough that it got Derek afraid.

Derek met him at the door; claw marks marred his face, but were already starting to heal. Peter took his face in his hands, looking him over, worried frightened that Derek was hurt worse somewhere that he couldn't see. "I'm fine," Derek said, pushing away Peter's hands. "It's Stiles."

The thought of Stiles, intelligent and kind Stiles, his godson Stiles, that something had happened to him made his stomach churn uncomfortably. He let Derek lead him inside. "What happened?"

"Kate happened."

The gut reaction that came from him startled Derek. Peter's eyes turned red, a growl, low and threatening, erupted from his chest. Why had Stiles been the target yet again of the hunters?

"You have to help him. Please Uncle Peter." Oh that struck a cord, Derek had not called him Uncle Peter since before the fire. He was begging, Derek was actually begging, pleading with him. And then he saw why.

Stiles lay in his father's arms, eyes half closed, his breathing labored. Blood stained his lips, his face and fingers. His stomach had been ripped open, and the smell hit Peter hard. It was possible to survive a wound like that, it took longer to die from one of those and Kate at least didn't shred the area. It was more of a slash wound across his stomach.

He knelt down by the teenager, his hand on Stiles's shoulder. Black webs snaked up his arm as he did what he could to ease the pain.

His eyes met John. The Sheriff was a mess, tears streaming down his face, hair disheveled. It was such a similar situation to how he had lost his wife that Peter couldn't even begin to imagine what was going through his head. The question was silent, the answer in the form of a slight increase in John's heart rate.

Peter leaned down and sank his teeth into Stiles's shoulder.

* * *

His whole group of friends was at the hospital. John was in Stiles's room, his own wounds having been treated. Thankfully he had not been bitten; Peter didn't need another upset werewolf on his hands. Laura was in there with him on Peter's request. The doctors had said that Stiles would be okay, amazed that his wound had already seemed better. That did nothing to elevate the mood of the group.

Peter looked in on John and Stiles. Derek was in there as well, unwilling to leave his side. Laura had a hand on her younger brother's shoulder, a frown on her lips. Someone had gone after his pack, the human members of his pack. Kate Argent and the hunters had done this.

"I want you all to move into my house," Peter said in a low voice. "It's too dangerous for you to be so far away. They'll go after you to get to me." He felt Chris's hand on his shoulder as he turned to face the three of them, Melissa, Alan, and Chris. "Scott too Lissy. I want you all there by tomorrow afternoon."

No one argued with him.

The hunters were getting dangerously close to giving Peter cause to declare a war on them. But if it was a war the hunters wanted it was a war that they would get.

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**Reviews are loved!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Notes: **Let me start off by apologizing for the long absence. Honestly this chapter gave me trouble cause I wanted cute and fluff. I have since learned I appear to be better at putting characters through hell than cute and fluff. ANYWAYS. My point is I am sorry for my lack of updates. I hope to have them more regular again soon. Just a busy start to the semester.

Enjoy my dears!

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It had nearly brought Peter to tears. The morning several days after his friends, his pack, had moved into the house on his insistence, that he had woken up to the sound of people in the house. It had not felt that alive since before the fire. He could smell breakfast down in the kitchen, hear talking and laughter. It nearly had the alpha in absolute tears.

_Peter yawned as he walked into the kitchen fully dressed one morning only to have a three year old Derek latch onto his leg. He smiled and scooped up the little boy. "Morning Peter. Breakfast?" Kathleen glanced over her shoulder at him._

"_Would be fantastic," Peter replied sliding into a seat beside Sasha who had a fist in her blonde hair staring down at some sort of textbook. "Test soon?" He grinned at Derek, bouncing the boy on his lap._

"_Shush I'm studying."_

"_Jeeze, someone is grumpy," Peter scoffed and turned to look at Derek when the young boy whined at him. Obviously the young boy did not appreciate being ignored. _

_His brother wandered into the room looking absolutely exhausted, Sebastian following close behind him like a loyal lap dog. Of course that was his job as a bodyguard. Daniel nuzzled Kathleen's cheek softly, picking up a cup of coffee off of the counter. His eyes darted to where Peter, Sasha, and Derek were. "It's Saturday…Peter, why are you even conscious yet?"_

"_Maybe I have plans." Peter shrugged his shoulders, letting Derek tug on the silver charm around his neck. _

_That got Sasha's attention and she looked at him with that calculating look that seemed to always get him into trouble. "Oh, must be that boy if you're awake this early."_

_And then the room went completely tense. Except for Derek who had now taken to staring up at Peter and trying to get his attention by patting his face. "Pip." So Derek couldn't actually say his name yet, Peter didn't mind the nickname. It got him to smile through the tension that had just developed. But it wasn't enough._

_He put Derek on the ground and ruffled his hair. "I gotta go." He could hear the car pulling up the drive; it was Chris. Peter got off of the chair and went towards the front door, snagging his coat off of the stairs where he had left it._

"_Peter."_

_He ignored his brother's call as he opened the door to see the black SUV in the driveway. Chris was behind the wheel and he smiled the second he caught sight of Peter. Peter was about to get outside, get to the safety of Chris's car and avoid the awkward conversation with his family._

_Or he was going to until his brother caught a hold of his arm. "No, you aren't getting out of this that easily little brother. We are going to have this talk now. Invite him in." Peter glanced up at his brother, his alpha, and he actually whined at him, pulling his arm away. It had been a direct order and he couldn't refuse._

_With a sigh, Peter went over to the driver's side door and knocked on the window. Chris rolled it down and Peter leaned against the door. Then, knowing his brother was watching, he raised himself up enough to lean in through the window and press his lips against Chris's. "Change of plans, family wants to meet you now."_

_Chris's heart went absolutely ballistic the second the words came out of his mouth. "They…want to meet me? Now?"_

"_Yes and would you calm down? It's not like they're going to sacrifice you over a fire in some weird werewolf ritual." Peter grinned at him, reaching through the window to turn off the car. _

"_That is so not funny."_

"_Kinda is." Peter opened the door and held out his hand. "Come on, fam's waiting." _

_Chris put his hand in Peter's and got out of the car, closing the door with a soft thud. His heart was still racing. "Don't say it."_

"_Would you relax? They're going to love you."_

"What are you thinking about?" Chris's voice snapped him out of his daydream. God he hadn't even made it out of bed yet.

His eyes glanced towards where Chris was sitting up in bed, looking down at him with a small smile on his face. "Got a smile on your face. Such a rare thing to see."

"Just thinking back to when you met Daniel and Kathleen. How Derek latched himself onto you." A grin spread across his face. "How she was convinced I was going to have to fight him for you."

It took a moment, then realization dawned on Chris's face and he laughed, lying back down beside Peter. He turned, nuzzling his cheek lovingly. "I remember that. He called you Pip… And I remember you saying your family wasn't going to sacrifice me over an open fire."

"I was trying to make you relax. Clearly my attempts were fruitless."

"Such a horrible boyfriend springing that on me like that."

Peter snorted and leaned over kissing him. "Oh you loved it. And they loved you so it was all worth it in the end, no?"

Chris was laughing, but returned the kiss. "Guess you could say that." Chris sat up again. "Come on, I smell breakfast."

"So pushy." But Peter got out of bed, pulling a t-shirt on, still wearing his pajama pants as he and Chris made their way downstairs.

From the living room he could see Isaac, Scott, and Stiles all still in their own pajamas, crowded around the TV with cartoons playing. As he watched, Derek walked into the living room taking a seat by Stiles. The boy had been released from the hospital yesterday, and Derek had rarely left his side. And by rarely, Peter meant the only time he had seen Derek without Stiles was when Stiles had to go to the bathroom. That was it. Otherwise wherever Stiles went, Derek would surely follow.

"It's about time you two got up." Melissa, still in her scrubs, was sitting at the island in the kitchen as Peter and Chris walked into the room. "Laura made breakfast. She was tired and went up to bed though." Night shift, right.

Peter's eyes fixed on the two plates still full of French toast and had to stop himself from drooling. He loved Laura's French toast more than he probably should have, but he was a man of simple tastes. Besides, it was his mother's recipe, how could he not love it?

He sat down at the breakfast bar, pulling the plate of delicious sweet goodness over to him. Before he even tried a bite though he looked to Melissa. "How is Stiles doing? Has John spoken to you about him?"

Melissa shrugged her shoulders, leaning back against the counter. "He seems alright. Got that watchdog following him around like a lost puppy. Same with Scott. Neither seem willing to leave him alone."

Understandable as far as Peter was concerned, after all Stiles was a newly turned werewolf. Not a very good one, but a werewolf all the same. His senses were still out of whack to the point where his center of balance was off. He was a clumsy puppy and it was absolutely adorable. It was familiar, watching someone come into their abilities, something that Peter had not seen in what felt like forever. Yes, he had turned Erica and Boyd, but they took to it much easier than Stiles was.

His gaze turned towards where the others were, his pack. His family. Chris sat down beside him, and he set a hand on the other werewolf's knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. Everything felt right, safe, and happy.

Peter could get used to this.

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